Everything the Light Touches

Ringing. Such loud ringing.

Hermione felt her head begin to pound as she looked around. She could feel the stretch of her skin across her chest, and warmth running down her neck and face. Her consciousness swam lightly for a moment before everything came into focus in an instant, the adrenaline finally kicking in. They were upside down; the car had stopped moving and there was faint noise coming from all around. She looked over at Draco, who was still unconscious, and began to panic. His hair was laced with thick red blood as it dripped from a gash on his face, pooling below him where his arms hung. She tried to reach for her wand, she could see it now sitting on the inside roof of the car, but it was no use, she couldn’t get it. She’d have to release her seatbelt, and that would mean crashing into the floor headfirst. She looked at Draco again and readied herself to drop, breathing deeply before clicking the belt out of place. She growled through gritted teeth for a moment, her collar bone was clearly broken, she’d have to use her wand in her left hand.

Deep breaths as she reached out again for the wand, this time she had it. She immediately suspended the bleeding from Draco’s face as she tried to position herself to hold the wand in her right hand to levitate him with Leviosa before releasing his belt. She felt as though she might pass out, and she was definitely going to be sick within the next three minutes. But she got him down just before she vomited out of a broken window. She cursed herself for not knowing more healing magic, why on Earth did she assume she’d never need it. Her breathing became ragged and shallow as she tried to wake him up, after several seconds of trying she realised she needed help, immediate help. She took hold of his arm, apparated them to the outside of the car and summoned a paramedic.

Draco felt his consciousness be ripped into place as they apparated, his eye sprung open the moment they were on the ground. He watched her scream at someone to help and heard the rush of footsteps. She looked back down at him, utter relief on her face when she saw that he was awake. She was covered in blood, her own or his, he didn’t know. His eyes closed and the next thing he knew, he was in another vehicle, speeding down the motorway again. He began to panic, but he couldn’t move, there was a brace on his neck, and he was strapped down to a board. His eyes were so wide, but he couldn’t see anything past her face as she tried to calm him down. She was still covered in blood, she was in a bad way herself, she didn’t seem to notice though as she focused on him.

“I’m going to have to sedate him, he’s going to hurt himself.” The paramedic stated. She nodded and he tried to protest but faded out once more.

“What’s happening, is he okay?” Hermione fretted as she looked over his sleeping face. The cut there had been cleaned, she’d had to allow the bleeding to continue after summoning help. She knew they could soften the scarring once they were back home, but she couldn’t help worrying about how he would take it.

“Miss, you need to sit down and sit back. You’re not helping yourself or him.” He stated plainly, “We need to get you there as quickly as possible so please, just sit back.”

She was strapped to a fold down chair in the back of the ambulance, they’d only allowed her to go with them because of the volume of patients needing to be transferred. She sat back and closed her eyes, breathing slowly, the pain was lesser now thanks to the drugs she’d been filled with.

When she awoke again everything was white. She wondered if she’d died. It was silent for a moment, as her eyes flickered and her ears tuned in to the sounds around her. The beeping of the machines she’d become a part of, the footsteps in the corridor outside, the drone of the voices from the TV in the corner. She looked down to her right hand, lifting it to her face before the sharp pain made her drop it again. She winced as she turned her head away from it and spotted him on her left side. Slumped over on the bed beside her, sat in the chair reserved for visitors, arms underneath his head. He was wearing scrubs; she could just imagine the stink he’d kicked up about the backless gowns patients usually got. She could see the cut on his face, it looked raw and painful, but he slept, nonetheless. She couldn’t halt the overwhelming guilt she felt as she took in the sight of his stitches, tears sprung into her eyes as she saw that his hair was no longer soaked in his own blood. How long had she been asleep if he’d had time to shower? She reached her hand out and stroked his hair, his eyes opened softly, and she felt the warmth of her tears fall down her face.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobbed. “I didn’t mean to..”

He looked like he hadn’t even heard her as he looked her over and took her hand in his. He moved to sit on the bed, peering into her eyes, looking for something with a panic-stricken expression. His demeanour gave her pause, she halted her crying and waited for him to respond. That was until she realised he had a cast on the arm that wasn’t holding hers, she began stuttering further apologies before he cut her off.

“This was not your fault. So, please, stop apologising to me.” He reached over to grab her some tissues as he stood up. “I need to fetch a doctor. Don’t move.” He watched her as he went towards the door, and she tried to sit up. “What did I just say? Stay still!” He sighed at her as he left the room.

Draco returned with a nurse who read her chart for a moment before checking the machines Hermione was hooked up to. They discussed her memory of the events, whether she knew where she was and how she was feeling. She learned that she’d been in a comatose state for 18 hours, they had tested everything they could think of but there had been no physical reason for it. Hermione had been glad to hear that, the last thing anyone needed was a brain bleed.

“Now that she’s awake, maybe you could go home, sir. Get some well needed rest yourself?” The nurse quizzed.

“No.” He stated, still staring at Hermione. He turned to the nurse before continuing. “I’ll go home when she does.” The nurse tutted before leaving the room.

“Where is everyone? Are they not allowed to visit?” She asked Draco.

“They don’t know. I have no idea how to contact them..” He muttered.

“I didn’t even think… I should have taught you how to use a phone.” She shifted in the bed and reached for her wand, he moved quicker and passed it to her. “I’m okay, Malfoy. Don’t baby me.”

“You might want to let the drugs wear off before you tell me that you’re okay. I’ve seen that collarbone of yours, and you have several cuts from the glass.” He sat down beside her again. She thought the bone had pierced her skin, she was glad to hear that it had been cuts from the glass instead, the thought of it made her cringe. She cast a corporeal patronus and sent it to Pansy. Draco raised his eyebrows; he assumed Harry would be her first choice.

“Harry would only panic, she’ll sort everyone out for me.” Hermione told him, noting the look on his face. Now all they had to do was wait.

Pansy walked in an hour later and conducted a minor investigation to find out who she needed to confund in order to get Hermione out of this place. She walked into her room to find Draco tenderly picking out glass from her hair and brushing it in sections, she observed for a while before making her presence known by dumping a weekend bag on the bed.

“Several different outfits and shoes for you to choose from and a port key to take us to St Mungo’s. There’s no way this lump of idiots know what they’re doing.” She looked at both of them and took a step back with her hand on her mouth. “They haven’t even fixed your injuries!”

“Muggles have to give their injuries time to heal unfortunately.” Hermione explained as she reached for the bag. Once again Draco helped her, she selected an outfit and Pansy shooed him out of the room. She looked queasy when she saw the state of Hermione’s chest, the bruising was extensive, apparently it looked worse than her face. Hermione was grateful that Pansy felt it necessary to share that sentiment, it wasn’t at all insensitive.

St Mungo’s had been a quick visit, they’d never keep Hermione Granger waiting for treatment. They’d deduced that her comatose state was due to blood loss, shock and the use of magic in such a state, she had been firmly chastised for that but would have done it again in a heartbeat. A quick diagnostic scan of them both revealed other broken bones that had been tended to by their innate magic. Hermione had believed they’d gotten off lightly with their wounds, instead they were just holding themselves together. Their open wounds were turned into silver lines, potions were prescribed for the broken bones, and they were sent back home to rest.

They were both relatively okay, it would take a day or two for the bones to heal and that would be a painful process, but they’d survive. Malfoy promised himself that he’d never step foot inside a vehicle again if he could help it, he was absolutely certain those events would haunt his nightmares for the foreseeable future. He’d never been more grateful that they held magic within them, he felt certain that if they didn’t, they may not have survived at all. Instead, they walked out of two hospitals today without any lasting injuries, albeit with a few extra scars.

They’d been given an enchanted bell to ring if they needed anything, it would alert all of their friends, and someone would come. Other than that, they’d been left to rest on the sofas with snacks and drinks within reach. The TV was on, and they watched it quietly, on opposite sides of the room, until Draco heard sniffling. She liked that he didn’t say anything, he just came over to comfort her, knowing that what she’d been through was awful, even if he had experienced it too.

When she eventually fell to sleep, he got up to feed Edgar, who had been a shade less impertinent today. He cleaned the sides in the kitchen as he had seen Hermione do and washed their leftover cups. He had just placed a blanket over her and sat on the arm of the sofa when the front door opened. He’d been expecting someone to come and check on them eventually, so he didn’t look over at first, not until he realised they were glaring at him from the doorway. It took Draco a moment to process who exactly he was looking at, and another moment to believe it. Ron Weasley.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Draco said sternly. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“I’m not here for you. I came to see Hermione.” Ron snarked.

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know for a fact that she does not want to see you. Leave before she wakes up.” He commanded; Ron almost waivered.

“I have every right to see her. More rights than you do.” Ron scoffed.

“What is it with you lot and feeling entitled to her? It’s fucking disgusting.” Draco scalded as he stepped into the doorway, mostly blocking her from view.

“I wouldn’t step up, Malfoy, you don’t even have a wand. And you deserve to be taken down a peg or two.” Ron suddenly had his wand in hand, Draco had been just about to punch him with his unbroken hand when he heard Hermione behind him. Ron froze in place, unable to move past the jinx she’d fired at him. She leviosa’d him out onto the pavement and placed several quick wards over the house before she nullified the jinx on him. Draco watched her from several paces behind, not wanting to get in her way.

“If you ever step onto my property ever again..” She fumed as she fought the climbing panic within herself.

“You’ll what? Set your little guard dog on me?” Ron sneered at Draco, who merely tilted his head in response.

“Yes. And I’ll make sure he goes for the jugular.” Her chest heaved with her panicked breathing, she tried to quell it as much as possible but the proximity to him began to make her feel unwell. “You are not, and will never be, welcome in my home.” She stormed back inside, Draco hot on her tail. He followed her through the hallway, closing the door behind himself, into the kitchen – where she picked up a freshly cleaned mug – and went out of the patio doors. He watched as she hurled the mug, as hard as she possibly could, onto the ground.

“Gods, I fucking HATE him!” She yelled as she threw herself down into a chair and slumped over herself, crying for the third time that day. Draco said nothing as he got to his knees beside her and rubbed her back, unsure of what else he could really do. The way she sobbed was different to the other times that day, they’d been quiet feelings of guilt, this was deep guttural pain. He knew this kind of pain well, albeit under different circumstances. He gently took her by her uninjured arm, asking her to trust him, and led her back to the sofa. They sat together, he pulled her into a cuddle on her uninjured side and resumed stroking her back as she continued to weep.

“It’s okay, Hermione. You’re okay. You’re safe, I promise.” He said all of the words he wished he’d heard from someone, anyone, back when he’d cried this way and found comfort in it himself. They lay together, soothing each other’s internal open wounds, for an hour. The TV playing quietly in the background as they breathed in time with each other until Hermione sat up.

“We need to take the potions we were given. Do you want some tea with it?” She shuffled in an attempt to stand up, but Draco stopped her with a hand.

“Let me, you wait here and keep my seat warm.” She smiled at him softly in agreement and for the first time in a long time, his heart skipped a beat. He mildly chastised himself as he flicked the kettle on and decided that it must have been the shared trauma, that’s all it was. He was just glad she was alive, and that didn’t mean anything. He was glad Potter was alive too, so it couldn’t have meant anything.

They nursed their second cup of tea, under a blanket they shared from opposite ends. Her legs rested on his though, and it absolutely did not make him feel anything. At all. She wasn’t a loud person, but she was expressive, it struck him how different she had been since Ron’s presence in the house, like she’d retreated within herself. He placed his hand on her calf and stroked his thumb on it.

“You two must have had a pretty rough break up..” Draco ventured. He had been curious since his first day here about what had happened, now he wanted to know just how angry he needed to be the next time he laid eyes on the prick.

“It wasn’t just the break-up.. It was all of it.” She looked out of the window, at the spot where he had been stood. “Harry thought it was a delayed reaction to the war but.. I think it just amplified traits he already had. Selfish, resentful, entitled. The resentment was the hardest, he hated that Harry, and I got more attention for our part in the war. We hadn’t grown up in the wizarding world, we weren’t forced to save it, but we did it anyway and that garnered us a lot of respect. He hadn’t even been there half of the time we’d spent looking for horcruxes. He’d gotten angry at us for being able to keep going, no matter how long it took, because we had no one to go back to. He had a whole family and instead of realising how lucky he was, he resented us for it. We’d already lost everyone but each other.. He was a fucking idiot.” She shifted to get comfortable before she continued.

“He’d always felt entitled to my brain in school, and he was enraged that I wasn’t figuring out Voldemort’s plans quick enough. But he never even attempted to figure any of it out himself. Even back in school, he didn’t want me unless someone else did, and never enough to actually declare it, only enough to be jealous and ruin it for me. He’d only chosen to love me when the rest of the world did, and even then he’d resented me for it. He felt entitled to having me, since we’d saved the world together, and he’d always drunkenly accuse me of wanting Harry instead of him. If only he wasn’t with Ginny. The drinking made him worse, and he steadily drank more and more. I tried to tell him how it made me feel but he didn’t care, he’d act like he had more of a reason to drink than I did to feel happy or safe.” She’d began playing with a loose curl.

“He spiralled even more after I wrote the books in the muggle world, the fact that I had been invited onto TV interviews and stuff incensed him. He never did anything but still expected praise. He’d keep me awake for hours at night with his drunken ramblings, and that’s when everyone started to see how bad things were. I was always tired and unwell, I stopped going out as much and never with Harry alone. Of course, he never said or did anything to anyone else, it was only me and only in private. But these things have a way of spilling out in the end. Pansy noticed it first and clued the others in to the way Ron would whisper in my ear and I’d lose myself. I’d just sit there, quiet, and sullen. Pansy fucking hated him for that, she had been the first to speak to me about it, to try and get me to see sense.” She rested her head back, sighing before continuing. Draco sat patiently listening.

“When he realised that everyone else was becoming aware of his behaviour, he took that out on me too. He got quite scary after that. He didn’t hit me, but he’d hit things near me. And it was always my fault, somehow I’d always caused his rage. And I was so beaten down by that point that I’d almost believed him. One day, I saw him kick Edgar. I lost it and began packing his things, I went around the house with a bag just stuffing his stuff into it. He followed me from room to room, screaming inches from my face about how much of a cunt I was and that he hated me. I was useless, washed up, no one cared about me. When I was in here, he had the nerve to insult my intelligence, and that’s when I snapped. I told him that he was projecting, that it was him that no one liked, that was useless and stupid. That he had nothing to show for the privileges he’d had in this world and that he was an embarrassment to his entire family. I told him that Fred would be disgusted with the man he became.” He took her hand and she looked at him before finishing the story. “We’d bought a stupid ashtray when we were in Brighton, and I reach for it to put in the bag with his stuff, but he got hold of it first. I didn’t see it coming, I didn’t expect it.”

“He didn’t?” Draco’s voice was stern.

“He did.” She pointed to an extremely thin line across the left side of her hairline. “I haven’t seen that much blood since until yesterday.. It just spilled out of me, I had to redecorate this room entirely because of it. I stumbled into the corner and shielded myself. The worst part is that he never stopped for a moment to see if I was okay. continued to scream at me until Harry walked in. I’d already made him aware that things were kicking off. Harry lost his mind..”

“I bet he did..” Draco squeezed her hand.

“Harry broke his nose that day, after Ron tried to hit him with the ashtray too. We’d all just had enough of him, he’d taken everything too far. There was no coming back for him after that. Even Ginny only speaks to him at family events. Harry won’t even look at him. He said that all he can see when he does is the blood up the walls and me in the corner. But back to my original list, he felt entitled to come here today, to see the damage that he’s no doubt blamed on you. He was selfish enough to not care how it would affect me. And resentful enough that he was ready to attack you for keeping me from him.”

Draco sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, he watched her intently as she finished up her story. He’d wanted it to be some big juicy affair or something, he hadn’t even considered it would have been abusive for her. He desperately grasped for something to say but found himself coming up empty handed. He realised they recently had a disagreement in this room, and he returned to find her crying. He decided to lead with that.  

“If I ever make you feel unsafe like that, please just say the word and I’ll leave. For a moment or forever, it doesn’t matter.” He shifted closer to her. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that in your own home again.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re like him.” She met his eyes as she swore it. “Ron got under my skin before he tore me apart from the inside out, he sowed seeds of insecurity and doubt that grew into a tangled mess. That’ll never happen to me again, I won’t allow it.” He squeezed her hand again.

“You didn’t allow it to happen the first time, you just didn’t know what to look out for. I hope there aren’t enough people like him walking the streets that you’d be at risk of finding it again.” Draco was sincere, but he was struggling to fully comprehend how it must have felt for her.

“I’ll be alone forever before I love another man that wants to tear me down to his level, rather than meeting me where I’m at.” She vowed as she watched him gather up their mugs again.

“Either that or find a man that knows being below you is the best place to worship you from.” He smirked at her before he left the room.