Hermione stood frozen above Theo's unconscious body; she couldn't tear her eyes from the image hovering a few feet away from his dozing form. It was so much worse than she ever imagined.
Listening to Theo's story had her kicking herself mentally. How had she not noticed the signs, clear as day, that her sweet Slytherin boy was becoming addicted to the very medication meant to help him? She had been blinded by the fact that he looked healthier, and failed to ask any other questions. How could Theo have known that he was chronically overdosing on his potions? He didn't have any of the medical training or knowledge she had obtained over the years.
After arriving in the infirmary, the clinical side of Hermione had locked into place. Her nerves calmed as she tied back her hair and pulled on a set of nitrile gloves. She needed answers, and she was going to find them. Draco hovered a few feet behind her, waiting for directions. Madam Pomfrey issued Theo a simple sleeping draught and launched into a discussion with Hermione and Draco.
"He must be weaned off the potions. His immune system is failing," Madam had insisted.
Hermione had gritted her teeth, "No offense, Madam, but how do you propose we do this? Do you honestly want us to take away his potions, force him to go through withdrawal, and allow his illness to ravage his lungs in the meantime?"
"Quiet, both of you. I'm going to cast an electromagnetic diagnostic," Draco had interjected. "We're wasting time arguing, and we need to see what is actually going on inside him." He raised his wand and began a series of complicated movements; layer by layer, an image had begun to appear over Theo.
Like Hermione, Draco and Madam Pomfrey were motionless. A rotating view of a set of lungs sat before them, and Madam Pomfrey gasped. Draco looked from the image to Madam, then back to the image and to Hermione, completely confused but alarmed. Hermione counted her heartbeats. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. She felt herself dissociate, and her mind drew up the memory of a passage from Charles Dickens' Nicholas Nickleby.
"There is a dread disease which so prepares its victim, as it were, for death ...a dread disease, in which the struggle between soul and body is so gradual, quiet, and solemn, and the result so sure, that day by day, and grain by grain, the mortal part wastes and withers away...a disease...which sometimes moves in giant strides, and sometimes at a tardy sluggish pace, but, slow or quick, is ever sure and certain."
Hermione had never understood the quote more fully than as she analyzed the rotating image. Draco's spell painted the muggle equivalent of a chest x-ray; in a healthy individual, the lungs shouldn't even be visible behind the illuminated ribcage and spinal cord. Instead, bright blotches covered almost the entirety of the scan. Only a few centimeters along the edges of the lungs were transparent, and Hermione realized that this 'dread disease' Theo had been fighting was finally moving in giant strides. Perhaps it was a recent development, or perhaps it had been gradual, but it didn't really matter. All that mattered were those pulsing patches.
Draco shook her shoulder and she realized she hadn't heard anything discussed for the past few minutes. His eyes were wild. "What is it? We don't know how to read this, you have to tell us what it means."
Hermione's mouth went dry. How do you tell someone it's too late? She wrung her fingers as that scientific and detached side of her began to slip. She could not break down. Not now. So she took a deep breath and met those icy eyes, fighting desperately against the blue cracking through.
"Draco. I need you to go to the lab while I talk to Madam Pomfrey for a second. Please." She said it so intensely that Draco didn't even bother arguing. He sent a concerned glance in Theo's direction but slipped into their small laboratory in the back. Hermione didn't speak until she heard the soft click of the door closing, then flicked a quick muffliato around herself and Madam Pomfrey.
Madam Pomfrey stalked around the cot, never taking her eyes off of the magical x-ray. "Miss Granger, I'm not going to pretend to know all of the details of this. But I do know enough to understand these...patches...are a terrible sign. Explain them."
Hermione nodded. It was much easier to breathe now that Draco was out of the room. She couldn't think when she could feel the despair radiating off of him; she was already struggling to suppress her own. "Correct. These blotches indicate inflammation, pus, and infection. It's not a definite site of bacterial infection, but a very intelligent guess. In the usual cases of Mycobacterium tuberculosis infection, we will see one or two areas with symptoms of this degree. To see the entire thoracic cavity filled with them is...gruesome. Of course, we have already known Theo suffered from a tuberculosis infection, as it's been present in all of his blood samples, but this is something altogether different."
Madam continued pacing. "This blood curse, or bacterial infection as you call it, cannot simply be siphoned out? Could we not try to remove the damaged blood and issue him blood replenisher?"
"If that worked, we would already know. He loses blood every day through coughing, then takes a blood replenisher. If anything, he's gotten worse. I think because the bacteria has mutated and taken residence in the lungs, any new blood we replenish is quickly contaminated."
"I see. The overdose of potions may have progressed him to this current state in a matter of days."
Hermione inhaled sharply. "Yes," she ran a hand roughly through her hair, "I realized that. The problem is we didn't know he's been multiplying his doses until now. My theory is that the potions never truly helped in the first place. How could they, when they only treat the symptoms: exhaustion, loss of blood, and coughing? That never addressed the true issue, the infection. Instead, exceeding the normal potion dosage simply took away all symptoms that are meant to alert the body that something is wrong. The excess blood replenishment may have also given the bacteria even more healthy blood to divide in." She grimaced. The entire thing was appalling.
Madam Pomfrey was silent beside her for a moment before stilling. "And you have not perfected the avensegium allegiata?"
"No. But even if we had...I fear it's too late. The spell is meant to attack foreign malicious bacteria, but look at the image. If we attacked all of it...there would hardly be any healthy lung tissue left. The damaged tissue would self-destruct, undergo necrosis, and become ravaged by fibrosis. The once usable tissue would be so scarred it would be unpliable for normal respiration, and thus there would be inadequate delivery of oxygen to the heart. The pulmonary circulation would fail, and the heart would give out."
"So he would die."
Hermione closed her eyes and whispered, "Yes." Saying it aloud sent a tremor through her body, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, sinking to the floor. Silently, her shoulders shook and tears ran down her face. Madam gently sank to her knees and placed her hands on Hermione's cheeks.
"This is what we are going to do, Miss Granger." Hermione raised her eyes to face the matron. "I am going to contact St Mungo's best thoracic healers and pathogenic researchers. They will come later today and take a look at your friend. The sleeping draught will last for at least another hour, so in the meantime, I suggest you have a very serious conversation with Mr. Malfoy, elsewhere. Do whatever needs to be done, but when the two of you return later today, you will be cheerful. You will be strong. You will be calm, because Mr. Nott will be awake, and he will be afraid, and he will need you. Do you understand?"
Hermione nodded mutely and rose to her feet unsteadily. When she pushed open the door to their lab, she saw Draco pacing the room. He stopped in place the second she entered and took in her forlorn expression. He held up a hand when she opened her mouth.
Hermione felt a physical chill pass over her even three meters away from him. A fierce anger burned in his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders stretched his button-down taut. He pursed his lips before snarling, "How long."
She squeezed her eyes shut, and a single tear slipped through. "Days. Maybe."
Draco froze. They each stood unmoving, but Hermione could feel the chasm opening between them. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop this; in this moment, life felt like it was speeding past her, colors and sounds and thoughts and dreams all blurring as she raced forward. When Draco strode past her, she felt dizzy. When the door snapped shut, she felt a piece of her burn to ash. When she was left alone, she felt a silence settle on her soul.
She would give him one hour before going to find him. He had one hour. After that, she didn't care if she had to stun him; they would be there for Theo.
***
Astoria let Hermione into the Slytherin common room an hour later and took in Hermione's expression before pulling her into a crushing hug. She didn't ask any questions, didn't make any demands. Astoria simply pushed a cold cup of water and a muffin into Hermione's hands and insisted she finish them before going upstairs. Pansy drifted over and braided Hermione's hair in a beautiful plait. You can face anything with your hair done. Hermione hadn't smiled at Pansy's joke but appreciated her support more than she could say. The girls gave her one more squeeze before leaving her at the steps to the boy's room.
She quietly slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. Draco stood facing the window and didn't turn. Instead, he set down a crystal glass filled with amber liquid on the windowsill and slid his hands into his trouser pockets.
"Get out."
"No." She took a step closer. He didn't mean it. She knew he didn't mean it. He was hurting; he was in agony just like she was. She would not abandon him.
"Get out."
"No." Another step in his direction, then another.
"Dammit Granger! Get out! I don't want you here! I don't want you," he took a shuttering breath and growled, "I don't want you."
She made it to him silently, and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso, resting her head against his spine. He remained tense and gasped sharply when she first touched him. She refused to let go.
Eventually, Draco's shoulders slumped and he hung his head. A hot tear dripped off of his chin and splashed onto her arms. They didn't speak, because really, what was there to say? In a few minutes, they would have to shove down the grief, paste on a smile, and say goodbye to their friend. For now, in this moment, they allowed themselves to break just a fraction. How had she become so entangled in the lives of these boys? Perhaps there were some sort of internal devices at work, binding the trio inextricably. Each of them had a lifeline, and along the way, the lines had become so entwined it was impossible to see where one ended and the other began. Hermione wasn't sure if she believed in a higher power, but sometimes when she looked at the two of them, she did for a moment. When she saw them, she looked into the eyes of the two greatest loves she had ever known. She squeezed Draco even tighter, and he turned and embraced her fully.
He murmured in her ear, telling her he had broken her muffliato in the infirmary and heard everything, that she needn't explain. She whispered into his chest that she didn't think she could be brave enough to see Theo again; she didn't know how to face him, to face the truth, to see his fear without drowning in her own. At her confession, she felt herself tremble violently. He reminded her that she was strong, and that he would be there with her. He said that their anger and despair could wait–for now, Theo was alive and they couldn't waste a single second of it.
"Promise you won't leave me?" She couldn't help but ask. Hermione couldn't remember a time when she felt so breakable.
"Never."
They released each other and straightened their clothing. She watched him close his blazing blue eyes and open them again, this time in grey. Hermione went through much the same mental pathway that she traveled when procuring a patronus charm, and forced all of her joyous memories of Theo to the surface whilst shoving her anxiety and sorrow far within. She would be her best for him, one last time.