XXXVI.
Draco’s head throbbed. So did the rest of him. He blinked against the bright sun shining through the windows. He looked around. He was in a bed. Not his bed.
Memories crashed over him like a hurricane. He sprang from the bed and winced at the biting pain in his side. He stumbled toward the door. Granger.
“Hermione!” he shouted as he nearly fell down the stairs. “Granger?”
Luna and Theo were sitting at a breakfast bar with cups of coffee between them. Draco reached for his wand. His wand. He threw his fist into the cabinet and shattered the door. Wood splintered around them as he shouted.
She had taken his wand. He looked at his wrist. His portkey was gone too. They’d taken it from him. He tripped his way toward Nott and gripped him around the collar.
“Where the fuck is she?” he shouted as he threw him against the wall.
“She’s not back yet.”
Luna pointed her wand against Draco’s ear.
“You should control your temper,” she told him.
Draco whirled on her.
“You all fucking let her go after me! I told you! I made you promise!”
“What were we supposed to do?” Blaise asked as he entered the kitchen with Narcissa and Pansy. “Let her die?”
“Who’s to say she’s not dead right now?”
“She’s not.”
Pansy held her wrist up. An identical bracelet encased her slender wrist.
“It’s protection magic,” she said. “I could cast shields around her from here. She’s alive.”
“So where is she?” Draco bit out.
He still had a firm grip on Nott’s shirt as he shoved him against the wall. The rest of them exchanged uneasy glances.
“Fucking Crespo could have her,” Draco yelled.
His mind crumpled at the idea of her being caught.
“I have to get back to the Ministry.”
Theo’s hand clapped against Draco’s chest. His wand was under it. Draco looked down and then back at Theo.
“Take mine,” he said.
“The Ministry raided the Manor last night,” Blaise said. “They knew what you were planning and that you were behind it.”
“You’re not going to be safe just popping in,” Pansy said.
“I have direct access to Smith’s office,” he said. “Bring me my robes from last night.”
“You still trust him?” Theo asked.
Draco nodded. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t think it was Smith.
Narcissa walked forward and wrapped her son in a strong embrace. He kissed her quickly on the cheek before vanishing with Smith’s portkey.
***
Draco slammed down on Smith’s desk. Coffee and parchment flew everywhere. He looked over and saw the Chief Warlock of Wizengamot seated in the chair opposite of Smith.
“Chief Warlock Graygain,” Smith said in a bored tone. “I believe you remember Draco Malfoy, our lead on this investigation.”
Draco contained his groan as he rolled off Smith’s desk.
“Sir,” he said. “Smith.”
“Shacklebolt and Crespo are on the run,” he said. “Along with the thirty or so Inferi that we couldn’t kill last night.”
Draco stood beside the desk and tried not to wince at the throbbing pain in his back.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“I want this tidied up immediately, Smith,” the Chief Warlock said, standing up. “We’re not moving forward with an interim Minister until we know who else needs to be flushed out of our system. Someone suggested Potter.”
“No!” Smith and Malfoy both said.
The Warlock's eyes narrowed.
“Not until we’ve cleared everyone,” Smith said. “For now, alert the others and media that Wizengamot will be handling all executive functions.”
He contemplated Smith’s words but wordlessly agreed and left the office. Smith slammed the door and turned on Draco.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Safehouse,” he sighed. “Not my choice. Where’s-”
“Granger? Hermione fucking Granger?”
Draco’s stomach plummeted. They knew.
“I thought Zabini was your informant, not her! Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Where is she?”
Draco’s hands shook.
“Mungo’s with Cho and the others. She’s on tight lockdown.”
“You don’t understand,” Draco said. “They’ll find her. They’ll turn her into an Inferi.”
“She’s the most heavily guarded person in the whole ward!”
“It doesn’t matter! You have a leak! The Ministry raided my home last night. Broke past my wards and entered my Floo.”
Smith’s face paled.
“I need to get to her before anything else happens.”
A glistening light caught Draco’s attention. A Patronus made its way through the door. A huge silvery cobra the size of a python reared up before them. Its hood pulsed out as it glowered at them.
“They’re here,” the Patronus spoke. “Crespo and Shacklebolt are at Mungo’s.”
Draco’s knees nearly gave out. Hermione. He sprinted out of his office and made his way toward the Floo. Smith was racing behind him, but Draco didn’t care. He had to get to Hermione.
By the time he reached St. Mungo’s, he was pulsing with anxiety. Draco had never felt this out of control. The crippling fear that he could lose her was all he could think about. They’d kill her. Or worse.
“Malfoy!” Jenkins’ voice jolted him back to the present.
“Where is she?”
He furrowed his brow. Smith barged past him and went to open the door. It was locked.
“Two healers are in there now,” he said.
Smith’s eyes were huge.
“Break this fucking door in,” Smith said. “Those aren’t healers.”
Draco threw seven Bombarda curses at the door before it finally started to strain under the curse. He finally rammed his shoulder into it and the door collapsed under his weight. The room was empty.
Draco cursed and was up again in seconds. He cast his Patronus. The massive dragon reared to life out of Theo’s wand.
“Find Hermione,” he ordered.
“Holy fuck,” Jenkins whispered as he looked at the massive Patronus that filled the hallway.
“Jenkins get the others here now,” Smith ordered and followed Draco as he began searching the rooms for her.
Draco’s mind reeled. He had to find her. There had to be a connection, a way to reach her. She most likely wouldn’t have his wand anymore, but she might still have the partial magic that existed within her necklace. And Pansy’s bracelet might still be there. She didn’t floo to the safe house. She was either too hurt, or her watch was ruined.
“How hurt was she?” Draco asked.
“Head injury,” Smith said.
At least she hadn’t tried to cast her curse. That would have likely caused the most damage.
“Why didn’t you tell me she would be there last night?” he asked as they searched. “I almost blasted her.”
“I didn’t know she was going to show up. She just did.”
Draco stilled. She just showed up. But how? How did she know where he would be? They programmed their watches together. He wasn’t a number. He ran his hand over his face. The cool metal of the ring triggered him. He cursed the clever and devious little witch.
He gripped Smith’s arm and pressed the ring. He felt himself pulled forward and was instantly thrown into a large open room. It looked like Shacklebolt’s office. Crespo and Shacklebolt were throwing curses at Hermione and Cho, who ducked behind Hermione’s shield.
Draco and Smith immediately began reigning curses and counter-curses down on the two assailants. Draco dueled with Kingsley, and the two circled one another.
Draco threw every dark curse he could think of at the Minister. But Kingsley was skilled; he dodged them all with grace and fluidity.
Smith sent out his Patronus to warn the other Aurors while he fought Crespo. She looked wild with rage and exhaustion. Creating the Inferi must have been eating away at her soul. She looked so frail and sickly.
“Avada-”
Draco dodged out of the way of Shacklebolt’s killing curse. Hermione screamed in the background and sent her own wave of curses toward him.
There was another flash of green, but Smith dodged it as well. A bright blue light flickered out of Theo’s wand and hit Kingsley in the head. He flew back, unconscious, and rolled over the desk.
Crespo had managed to knock Smith back with a Stupify, and she was now aiming toward Hermione and Chang again.
“Vipera-”
“No!” Hermione shouted as Draco took aim with her curse.
Hermione’s shield fell, and she rushed toward Draco.
“Crucio!”
The curse hit Hermione directly in the back. A quiet gasp escaped her, and her face contorted in pain. Her form went rigid before collapsing into Draco’s arms. Crespo’s torture ricocheted violently through her small body. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and she convulsed.
Draco saw red. He held Hermione against his chest as he raised his arm against Crespo. A bright light broke through the office. He wavered as his Patronus rushed forward from out of Kingsley’s bookshelf. The dragon roared a silvery stream of fire and charged toward Crespo. His dragon sprinted right through the center of her chest. Light exploded in the room as Crespo’s body crumpled to the floor. His Patronus vanished into mist.
***
Draco had inserted himself into the healing plan the medi-wizards at St. Mungo’s organized for Hermione. She’d been there three days and still hadn’t woken up. Draco showed the Healers his diagnostic charm and revealed the dark magic that had crowded around her interior. He didn’t explain anything about the dark curse she’d invented. They knew plenty about her history of being tortured and multiple exposures to the Cruciatus. He worked closely with Healer Netty, the head healer on the second floor. She warmed up to Draco quicker than others usually did.
“We were able to remove the poison from her arm before,” Healer Netty said. “Perhaps we should treat this similarly. A withdrawal of poison.”
Draco shared with her the research he had started on removing the Dark Mark during his internship after his N.E.W.T.s. She asked to see the work. When he wasn’t sitting beside Hermione’s beside, he was working with Netty on a cure.
Rumors spiraled about the golden girl’s return. The mad rush of reporters from the Prophet fighting to get a word from her was exhausting. Draco finally threatened to hex the next non-healer that approached this wing of the hospital.
Draco had just finished another few hours with Healer Netty. She was pleased with the progress they were making, but Draco was restless. He wanted immediate results.
“I’ve said my peace, Potter,” Thomas said. “Be on your way.”
Draco watched as Potter and Weasley berated Thomas outside Hermione’s door.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
“We’re here for Hermione,” Weasley said.
Draco looked at Thomas. He stared ahead, unphased by their urgings.
“She’s not accepting visitors at this time,” Draco said.
At that moment, Pansy made her way around the corner.
“Gentlemen,” she smiled. “Hi, Dean. Brought you a coffee.”
He took it with a smile.
“Thanks, Pansy,” he said.
She stepped around them and walked in through Hermione’s door. Dean stepped back in front of the door and blocked Potter’s progress.
“What the fuck,” he said. “You’ll let Parkinson in and not us? We’re her best friends!”
“Mrs. Zabini is on the list,” Thomas said. “You two are not.”
Potter let out a disbelieving scoff.
“We’re going in there,” he said as he stepped forward.
Thomas kept his face impassive as he looked forward and drank his coffee.
“Go home, Potter. Take your weasel with you.”
“This is fucking ridiculous!” Weasley shouted.
Draco snapped. He took Weasley by the collar and dragged him out of the direction of Hermione’s room. He rounded the next corner and shoved Weasley against the wall.
“The last thing Hermione needs is someone shouting outside her fucking door,” Draco snapped.
Harry drew his wand on Draco.
“Do it, Potter,” he seethed. “I fucking dare you.”
“The last thing she needs is more Death Eaters in her room,” Weasley said. “We’ll go to the Ministry about this!”
Potter dug his wand into Draco’s throat.
“Oh, hello, Draco.”
Luna’s lilting voice broke through the intensity of their current stance.
“I’d put that down,” Nott said, his wand digging into Potter’s neck in the same fashion.
“Just like Hogwarts,” Luna smiled. “I’ve brought Hermione an Asphodel plant. Do you think she already has one?”
An uncomfortable silence lingered while Luna stared at Draco around her giant plant.
“She doesn’t,” Draco finally bit out, maintaining his hold on Weasley.
“Wonderful,” Luna said. “It has ties to Persephone, and that just seemed like a perfect match to me. I suppose that would make you Hades.”
She giggled to herself. None of them moved. Nott and Potter kept their wands tightly in place as Draco and Weasley glared at one another.
“Come, Theodore. Hermione should be waking up any time now. I don’t want to miss it.”
Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she teetered along with the large flowering plant in her hands. Nott shoved Potter off to the side and clapped Draco on the shoulder. He contemplated punching Weasley but decided against it. He dropped his robes.
Nott threw his arm around Draco’s shoulder as they followed Luna. As they entered Hermione’s room, they could see her sitting up in bed chatting with Pansy. Draco felt his soul finally release the tension it’d been holding for the last several days.
“Hermione!” Luna smiled. “So glad to see you’re finished sleeping.”
Draco let Luna and Theo hug Hermione before he moved forward. The room spun slightly. He felt like he couldn’t take in enough oxygen. She gave him a tired smile, and his resolve cracked. He didn’t realize how terrified he’d been of losing her until he saw her awake. Tears swam in his eyes.
“About fucking time, Granger,” he said as emotion rose in his throat.
She bit her lip and held out her arms. He walked into them and let her scent surround him. He buried his face in her neck, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him.
“I’m safe,” she whispered. “We’re okay.”
She kissed his head, but he left his face buried in her neck as the unfamiliar emotion washed over him. He’d let his anger fuel most of his actions over the last several days. It was easier to feel rage than feel fear. But now that she was conscious, the rolling force of emotions broke free of their strongholds. She was alive.