XXIII.
Hermione felt a sharp prick on her arm. The haze of sleep was still settled over her. She cracked open her eye and found she was not in Malfoy’s bed. She was in the library. She struggled to sit up, but Malfoy held her down with one hand while he waved his wand over her left arm. He was drawing blood from her arm.
“Malfoy!”
She struggled against him, and he released her, magically corking another vial of her blood.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
She looked over and marveled at how the library had been completely transformed. Malfoy had set up three huge work tables and stools in the corner. There were cauldrons, vials, bottles, and shelves of various ingredients that had made the corner of the library look like a potion’s classroom.
Theodore Nott was poised on one of the stools studying something under a microscope.
“Granger, I’ll need you to hold still for this next bit,” Malfoy said.
She was still in his jersey and felt ridiculously exposed on the small hospital bed he’d conjured.
“For what?”
He raised his wand above her head.
“A full body scan,” he said. “Nott says you vomit blood after you cast your killing curse, and I want to see the extent of the effects that have taken root in your system.”
“An Auror analysis charm isn’t going to reveal those kinds of findings-”
“Obviously,” he cut her off. “Which is why I’ve created my own. Inspired by the Muggle CT scan. Now hold still.”
Muggle medical integration into a spell? She must be still dreaming or badly hallucinating. There was no way that Draco Malfoy would be combining magic and muggle practices.
He hovered his wand above her head and slowly made his way down the rest of her body. She remained still as a soft purple light moved along her body. Once he reached her feet, he conjured a roll of parchment and pointed his wand at it. Words and graphs began appearing all over the parchment as it rolled out. Malfoy grabbed the parchment and began reading the information while more of the scrolling parchment began to spin across the floor.
“What does it say?” she asked, sitting up.
He ignored her and flicked his wand back toward a strange machine she’d not seen before where her blood vials were stored and began spinning.
Kippy popped in front of Hermione next, startling her.
“Miss is awake! Breakfast?”
“Erm, sure, yes. Thanks.”
Kippy popped away. Malfoy continued to ignore her.
“Could I at least have some clothes?” Hermione asked.
Theo turned back around and grinned at her. He pointed his wand and transfigured her denim, socks, and maroon jumper. He even fixed her hair that had fallen out of the braid into perfectly coiled curls like his own.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully.
She stood from the bed and walked over to Theo. He had four different smaller cauldrons brewing before him.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, motioning to the microscope.
He pushed it toward her to give her a look.
“This is bits of Crabbe and Goyle’s exploded persons.”
She grimaced but looked anyway. Behind her, she heard Malfoy curse, and her sweater was transfigured into a green one.
“I happen to like maroon,” she argued.
“You’re not wearing Weasley’s sodding jersey,” he said, turning back to his notes.
Hermione looked over at Theo, who was laughing to himself while mixing a potion. When he caught her stare, he shrugged innocently.
Kippy popped in with breakfast and vanished again. Hermione’s stomach rumbled at the smells. She headed toward the tray.
“I forgot my Murtlap tentacles,” Theo said, standing up. “I’ll be back.”
Theo left the library, and Hermione studied Malfoy. He was dressed in his black denim, dragonhide boots, and a soft green cashmere sweater. His glasses were balanced on his perfectly angular nose, and his hair had a soft wave to it and was perfectly disheveled. No one would know he had been completely knackered the night before.
“I can feel you gawking at me, Granger,” he said without taking his eyes off the parchment.
“I am not gawking.”
This time he looked up and gave her a disbelieving squint. She was still frustrated with him. He’d been a nightmare yesterday.
“Why did you say those things to me last night?”
He raised a brow at her. Hermione scoffed.
“I didn’t imagine it,” she argued.
“I can’t be held liable for the ridiculous musings of a drunken man,” he said with a shrug. “I ingested nearly three bottles of firewhisky.”
Her confidence wavered. He had been very drunk. That much was obvious. Perhaps he really didn’t mean what he said about being afraid to lose her. Or all that ridiculousness about Ronald. It was just the alcohol. She looked back at him now, his brow furrowed in frustration over what he read.
He rolled the parchment up and set it on the table. He walked toward her and began prepping her coffee while she loaded a plate of food for him. They exchanged, she made a smaller plate of food for herself, and he made himself a coffee. They sat on the couch together.
“What is all this?” she asked, preparing a piece of toast.
He sipped his coffee. His eyes were far away, distracted by something he wasn’t saying. She scooped some of her eggs onto her toast.
“Hmm?” he asked.
“Is it really safe to be brewing things next to all these priceless books?”
“They’re charmed,” he said with a shrug. “The instant the books are threatened with any number of dangers, they’re instantly transported to one of my vaults in Gringotts.”
She stared at him with a sense of bewilderment.
“One of them?”
“Yes?” he gave her a confused stare. “I have seventy-three, Granger.”
She choked on her eggs.
“You have seventy-three vaults in Gringotts?”
“Yes. And twenty-nine in other countries.”
Hermione blanched. She couldn’t comprehend that kind of money. Bellatrix’s vault was insanely large. She couldn’t imagine the size of Malfoy’s. It’d take at least three that were Bellatrix’s size to hold just his books.
“You’re-”
“Very rich,” he said in a bored tone. “Yes. This is why it’s even more ridiculous that you and Pansy didn’t think to involve me in all this from the beginning. I have unlimited resources, Granger. And happen to make a very powerful ally.”
She glared into her coffee cup. There were obviously other reasons why they’d chosen not to involve him. But those were all a moot point now that he knew everything.
“Tell me about the spell you created,” he said.
“How do I know you won’t use it?”
He rolled his eyes. She understood that her constant distrust grated on him, but what did he expect? He’d kidnapped her, and she was still being held here, without magic, against her will.
“As Auror’s we’re subject to constant wand checks,” he said. “I couldn’t cast a curse like that without alerting the entire Department. The residual dark magic would trigger my dark mark as well. It alerts those of us through the mark when we’ve been exposed to or used dark magic. I would prefer not to alert anyone to my use of dark magic.”
She pushed her sausage around her plate while she considered his words. He was involved now. He knew about the vow. The more she withheld from him, the more dangerous he would be to himself.
“Vipera aureus.”
He expelled a shallow laugh.
“Golden viper. You used snake venom.”
“I took the idea from the venom,” she agreed. “Configured those properties into a spell that would have similar and quicker effects.”
“The hematomas,” he said with a faint smile on his lips.
“You were close,” she said. “I was in the store room at Nott’s that day. I heard you talking about it.”
“I know,” he nodded. “I smelled your perfume.”
She remembered seeing her perfume bottle on his bed when he presented her with the evidence he brought against her that first night at the Manor. She found it so hard to let go of the last little piece of herself, though. She wanted to hang on to something. And that something was the perfume her mother picked out for her that she said matched her perfectly.
“I could have figured it out,” he smiled to himself.
Pride radiated from him. The last thing she needed was for his ego to get any larger.
“You could have,” she agreed, though it pained her to admit.
He summoned the parchment from earlier into his hand and pointed it at her.
“I never thought I would be sitting here lecturing Hermione Bloody Granger on the dangers of creating and using dark magic, but here we are.”
She rolled her eyes, but he continued.
“It’s widely irresponsible and reckless. Do you know the damage you’re causing to yourself? You’ve essentially created a dementor inside of you, sucking out parts of your soul. You couldn’t cast a Patronus right now if your life depended on it.”
“I haven’t been able to for years.”
“No, I wager not, after creating and casting a spell like this.”
“I haven’t been able to cast a Patronus for years, Malfoy. Fifth year, I think?”
He recoiled as if he’d been slapped. She rarely surprised him, but this time she had significantly.
“It’s hard to cast spells about light and goodness when you haven’t experienced any in years.”
He shook his head.
“No, you were engaged; you were planning a wedding,” he reasoned. “Your stupid friend had babies with his ginger wife. You go to the Burrow and laugh it up with all the gingers.”
“I told you last night Ron and I weren’t right,” she said quietly. “And the Burrow… well, it all changed. Everyone changed. I changed.”
Malfoy had the faraway look in his eye that he got when he was sifting through his memories.
“At the Ministry, everyone sent messages around with their Patronus. But you never did. You transfigured yours into a tiny paper airplane.”
She exhaled. The Ministry determined that it was cleaner than having thousands of owls, so they had transitioned into different communication options. Most chose to use their Patronus. He really did pay attention to every detail. He must be a fantastic Auror. How he didn’t make Head Auror was beyond her understanding.
“Neither did you,” she said.
“Paper crane,” he smiled. “But I doubted many people wanted my Patronus wandering the hallways of the Ministry.”
“Why?”
She’d assumed he couldn’t cast one. Many of the former Death Eaters couldn’t. She assumed that was another reason Kingsley and the others arrogantly paraded their Patronus figures around the halls.
He pointed his wand in front of them.
“Expecto Patronum,” he said quietly.
Out of the tip of his wand spun a silvery glow. It swirled on the floor until a giant dragon rose up on two legs. The dragon’s wings were outstretched and took up most of the space in the library around them. Silvery whisps of smoke spun from the nostrils of the great beast. Its wings settled against itself as it lowered itself onto four legs. Hermione was breathless as she looked over the creature.
“See what I mean?”
Hermione nodded, and the dragon rumbled delicately from its space before them. Guilt filled her mind. Draco Malfoy, a former Death Eater and servant of Lord Voldemort, could conjure a Patronus. Even he had the ability to draw up powerful, happy memories. So where were hers? She used to be happy. But that felt like so long ago.
He vanished the dragon.
“I suppose we need to figure out how to get Granger’s light back.”