Saving the Enemy

Chapter 17

Her breath becomes labored just as a nurse comes in, looking shocked to see her awake. Draco's bloodied body ingrained in her mind, set on him and him alone.

“Draco,” Hermione gasps, her eyes wide in fear that he has died, that she can never see his beautiful, stunning grey eyes again. That she can never feel his soft hair running through her fingers or his gentle lips moving in sync with hers. Never see his heart-stopping smile or see the look on his face when she walks down the aisle towards him.

A nurse comes in, still looking at her clipboard, however, when she looked up to find Hermione awake, her eyes become wide. She hurries over to Hermione who is currently trying to breathe normally with the threat that Draco is gone. She just needs to know.

“Draco,” is all she can get out when she wants to say so much more. His name seems to be the only thing she can currently say, but the recognition in the nurse’s eye means that it was enough.

“Miss, you cannot get up and Mr. Malfoy is in no condition to have visitors right now,” the healer explains. But that statement only heightens Hermione’s fear. No condition to have visitors. What is going on with him right now? Of course he needs her now more than ever, and Hermione will not take a no for an answer.

“Where is he?” Hermione demands, hoping she sounds stronger than her weak, sore muscles feel. The healer looks at her with a sense of pity, but Hermione can see that she is not going to be letting her go anytime soon. She doesn’t even consider the consequences, she just sits up, removes all the wires to her and stands.

“Miss, I cannot-” the healer tries to start but Hermione turns to glare at her.

“Now, this can go one of two ways: I will go to the love of my life and fiance through you letting me walk out this door and leading me to him, or I can tell my boss, the Minister that your facility has restrained one of his top Aurors without his, or my, permission. You realize that your job and reputation will go down in flames. Now I repeat myself. Where. Is. Draco?”

Hermione practically spit out the last words but she doesn’t care. Draco. She needs to see him, to be near him, make sure he is getting all the care he needs. Her worry trumps her polite ways she usually resorts to. The healer visibly gulps, Hermione’s threat fresh in her mind as she gestured for Hermione to follow her, giving in.

Hermione quickly follows, her heart racing faster as they turn every white corner. Draco. Draco. Draco. It’s a relentless chant in her head but it is all she can think about, he consumes her mind in worry and fear that she had somehow led him to this. Her mind is screaming at her stupidity and she is so distracted with worry that she hardly realizes that they have reached the room. When Hermione looks up, however, her breath catches in her throat, new tears spring to her eyes as she runs forward, ignoring the shouts at her to stay back, the shouts that are trying to protect her.

She sees Draco in a bed with tubes connected to him, they seem to be the only thing keeping him alive. Sure, they have magic that helps, but they can only do so much. Emotional and mental damage, that is something they cannot fix. Draco has reached his breaking point, he endured it for her, so she didn’t have to endure this.

Hermione sits in the chair beside his bed, silently crying as she looks at his peaceful face, making it look as if he is merely asleep, that he isn’t currently fighting for his life. The healer next to him looks at her with sorrow, trying to show that she is sorry this has happened but Hermione doesn’t want their pity. She wants them to heal Draco.

“How bad?” Hermione asks as she slowly comes out of her shock. She doesn’t move her eyes from Draco, slowly brushing a stray strand off of his forehead. She finds that he is quite cold, making her eyes leak more tears, but she still stays silent. She can’t find herself to make much noise anymore, not with Draco’s life on the line.

“He’s currently in a coma. We can’t do much about it, we just know that his systems seem to be failing. He has experienced more than the normal quota for the cruciatus curse before this incident, so we believe that the new injuries caused his body to sort of just, for lack of better terms, give up. We believe that he is fighting though because the cases similar to this, with less severe uses of the curse of course, are either insane or dead. We think that he has a reason to fight, to fight harder than I have ever seen anyone fight before,” his Healer explains. “I think he is fighting for you.”

Hermione finally lets out a sob, gripping his hand in hers, lowering herself down to his arm and crying violently on him. She is the reason his is here and the reason he is fighting. How messed up this whole situation is. She promised him that she would keep him safe, that this would never happen to him again. But she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t keep him safe. She hates herself for not being good enough. But deep in her mind she knows there was nothing she could have done to stop the masked figure. Now he is living longer than most who had just a fraction of his injuries and that scares the bloody pants off of her. She can’t lose him, not after so much fighting to keep him where he is now, of fighting for their love, of fighting to make him happy.

The Healer leaves them, knowing that Hermione needs space and there isn’t much else she can do for him. Draco needs to recover on his own now. Hermione can’t pull herself together so she just lets it all out.

“D-Draco,” she whispers, looking up from his arm that is not soaked with her sorrow and fears before she moves her hand up to his face to stroke his cheek gently. “Draco, you promised me forever. I promise that as long as I live, I will fight for you. I can’t promise to keep you safe anymore, but I promise to pay any price to keep you alive. I love you so bloody much. Merlin, you need to keep fighting. You need to wake up so I can walk to you, so we can become forever. Don’t you dare leave me, I can’t lose you. I know it might not be healthy to have such a need for you, but I don’t care. Ever since the war, relationships are how we live.

“I know you have been through so much, but I will be damned if they get away with it. I will personally bring whoever even thought of hurting you because you are not a terrible person. I know you dream about your perception of yourself, but if you were that version you are imagining, do you really think I would love you like I do? No, because you are so caring yet I love how we can joke and comfort each other when no one else can. Just d-don’t leave me. You can’t go, not now. I promise to hunt them down until my last breath if I have to, I will make you safe. Just d-don’t leave yet. Let me l-love you j-j-just a b-bit l-l-longe-er. I l-love you Draco Malfoy. Please, keep your p-promise of forever and I will keep mine. Fight and wake up.”

Hermione can only hope that Draco could hear her, that he would fight harder and wake up for her. That the promise of her love forever will be enough because that’s all she can give. Everything she has, she will give to him, but he just needs to bloody wake up.

Hermione knows that she is not leaving Draco, so she grabs her wand from the nightstand next to her love that the Healer set there. She murmurs a quick patronus charm, a plan of action already forming in her determined mind. This person, whoever they are, are going to pay dearly. No one hurts those she loves and gets away with it. And this person has her outrageously furious.