Love Thy Enemy (Finished)

Healing Sleep

My knees are weak and my head is light, making my sight go unfocused for a moment and McGonagall places a firm, steadying hand on my shoulder. She is alive, that is what I have to focus on. She is alive and she will wake up and she will be fine. We will have our life together. Focusing on that helps me pull it together and I can stand a little firmer.

"Can I go in and see her?" I ask.

"Of course. I have informed Madam Pomfrey that you are to be her only visitor and that you may stay as long as you like. But no one else is allowed in. Now, I think I will go find Miss Weasley and let her know what happened," says McGonagall.

"She will want to come visit," I point out.

"She will just have to wait until Miss Granger is awake. Now why don't you go in and sit with her for a while and I will go take care of Miss Weasley," says McGonagall and she turns and walks away.

And I have been sitting here, watching her unconscious form ever since. Her hand is so cold in mine and as I watch her she begins to shiver. I stand and look around for an extra blanket and end up pulling one off of an unused bed. I drape it over her but it doesn't help. She continues to shake. I take a quick look at Madam Pomfrey's closed door and then kick off my shoes, pull off my blood covered robes and slide under the covers next to Hermione. I am perched on the edge of the small bed, but I pull Hermione gently into my arms and hold her tight against me, willing her to warm up. Eventually her shaking subsides and my heart lightens a staggering amount when she actually cuddles into me. 

Finally with Hermione again and holding her in my arms, my sleepless night last night and the events of today catch up with me and I can barely keep my eyes open long enough to tuck my head into the crook of Hermione's neck and tell her I love her before unconsciousness swallows me completely. 

"Mister Malfoy," comes a strange whisper as something shakes my shoulder. I stretch and open my eyes. Professor McGonagall is looking down at me, a suspicious look on her face.

"This isn't what it looks like," I tell her as the past day comes flooding back.

"I certainly hope not," she says.

"She was cold and started shivering," I explain.

"And you couldn't just give her another blanket?" asks McGonagall.

"I did but she just kept shivering. I promise, nothing happened. We just slept, that's all," I say.

"I believe you. Now why don't you go shower and get something to eat," suggests McGonagall.

"No, what if she wakes up?" I ask.

"I will sit here with her until you get back. You are covered in blood and look like you are half dead yourself. If she wakes up and sees you like this she will pass right back out," says McGonagall and looking down at my blood soaked pants and hands, I know she is right.

"I'll be back in half an hour," I tell her.

"I'll be here, take whatever time you need," she says. 

I nod stiffly and lean in to brush a kiss over Hermione's forehead. Her skin is warm and pink once again and she looks worlds better than she did last night. "I'll be right back" I whisper and then slip out of the bed, grab my bloody robes and head for the door. The halls are empty since all the students are in their classes and I reach my room quickly. I strip down and toss my clothes in the garbage. I don't care if they can wash the blood out of them, I'll never wear them again. 

I step in the shower, meaning to hurry, but the hot water feels so good that I stand under the pouring spouts until the water goes cold, letting the jets wash away the terror and worry of yesterday. Once I am out and dressed, I head to the Great Hall and grab some toast before the tables are wiped clean. I eat my toast on the way back to the Great Hall, feeling much better than I did last night. But the fear of Hermione not waking up is still there, eating at me and keeping me from enjoying the quiet walk.

When I get back tot he hospital wing, Professor McGonagall is still sitting in the wooden chair and Madam Pomfrey is bent over the bed, attending to Hermione. When Professor McGonagall sees me, a smile tugs at her usually stiff lips.

"What is going on?" I ask coming over. Hermione is still unconscious on the bed.

"She is going to be fine Mr Malfoy," says Madam Pomfrey straightening up.

"How do you know, she is still out," I point out.

"She is merely sleeping. She went through a great deal and while the poison is still working through her body, it is best if she doesn't have to feel it burning through her. I have given her a sleeping potion that will last until the last vestiges of the potions disappear. When she wakes, the pain should be manageable, if not gone," says Madam Pomfrey.

"She will wake up?" I ask hardly daring to believe it.

"That is what I said," says Madam Pomfrey, but she is smiling.

"So why don't you sit here with her and let us know if anything changes," suggests Professor McGonagall.

I have a seat in the chair McGonagall leaves and they walk out of the room, leaving me alone with Hermione. I scoot the chair closer and reach out to take her hand. With my free hand, I reach in my pocket and pull out a small book. It is one of my favorites, Frankenstein, and I begin to read. I read until my throat is sore and I can barely talk. Eventually, I put the book down and rest my head on her stomach. I may have slept better last night, but I am still far from rested. So I relax and let myself drift off, focused on the sound of her deep, rhythmic breathing. 

Waking up is like swimming to the surface of a warm pool. When I finally return to consciousness, I don't open my eyes immediately. Instead, I just lay there and enjoy the feeling of fingers running through my hair and tracing the lines of my face. It takes a minute for the touch to register and when it does, my head snaps up and my eyes fly open. Hermione is awake. She is still pale and there are dark circles under her eyes, but she is awake. 

"Good morning," she says smiling. Her voice is weak and rough, but it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

:Why didn't you wake me up?" I ask, staring at her face, trying to take it all in.

"You looked tired," she shrugs and I can't help laughing. After everything she went through, she thought I looked tired?

"I'm so sorry Hermione, I should have believed you. I should have listened. This is all my fault," I apologize, but she places a hand over my mouth, silencing me.

"Only one person is a fault here. Nicola. What happened to her? Is she expelled? Sent to Azkaban?" asks Hermione, her eyes full of hatred. I wish with all my heart that I had good news for her, but I tell her the truth.

"She escaped. We don't know where she is."