Chapter Text
Alarms blared throughout the Ministry.
Hermione instinctively grabbed her wand out from her bun and slammed open her office door in search of its source; Theo exited his office just as she did.
“What’s going on, gorgeous?” Theo asked as they set off for the main lobby.
“No idea. It’s not from us, is it?” Her eyes frantically searched for any signs of damage.
“Don’t think so, unless you were messing with protection wards in the archives.”
Hermione shook her head.
Amelia, the head receptionist, entered from the lift lobby. “Oh, good, you’re both here. Glad to see neither of you were caught up in the mess upstairs.”
“What do you mean ‘mess upstairs’?” Hermione rushed as her heart began to race, “Where have you been?”
“It’s awful, really. It seems as though there was an explosion in the Auror department.” Amelia recounted as if she had all the time in the world. “No one knows yet what happened or if there have been any injuries. The whole floor has been closed off for inspection.”
Hermione and Theo took one look at each other and sprinted for the lifts.
Panic flared within her; her heart only thumping harder and harder as she pounded the button to the DMLE floor.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
Hermione hadn’t felt true fear for her friend’s safety like this since the war. Dealing with a constant worry that ate you up from the inside, always expecting that the worst had happened. Her nervous energy was not helped by Theo, who paced the entire lift ride up; muttering words of comfort under his breath.
The lift doors heaved and screeched open slowly, and both Hermione and Theo forced their way out, racing towards the main floor. A line of both Aurors and trainees formed a blockage to stop anyone from passing into the DMLE. Behind them was chaos.
Smoke engulfed the office; ash and dust which hadn’t yet settled from the blast. Some of the desks were blown to pieces and scattered across the floor. There was shouting from all around and groans of pain could be heard from those isolated to the right. Hermione could see some of her friends amongst the injured; it looked like Seamus had a broken arm, Ernie was holding the side of his head and Angelina was sporting a black eye.
Hermione stepped forward instinctively until an arm blocked her.
“Sorry, no one can enter the scene until we have medical staff here and the scene has been cleared,” a trainee in front of them explained.
“I am medically trained, I can help until other mediwitches arrive,” Hermione stated. “Where is Harry Potter?” She definitely wasn’t above pulling the friend card.
“Sorry, ma’am, but I have to wait for St Mungo’s nurses, and I am unsure of where Head Auror Potter is.”
“Do you know who she is?!” Theo interrupted loudly, pushing her aside, far more angry than she’d ever seen him before. “She is Hermione Granger, and was helping Harry defeat the darkest wizard of all time whilst you were still in nappies. Now let her in to find her friend before I take this wand and shove it…”
“Okay, Theo,” Hermione pulled him back by the arm, “too much. I appreciate it, but that is not going to help.”
“It’s okay, Lindall. You can let them in.” Harry’s gravelly voice cut through from somewhere behind the barrier. He stepped into view as the younger trainee stood aside.
Harry wasn’t too badly injured from what she could see, just some scrapes.
Hermione rushed forward and pulled him into a chest breaking hug. Though this did nothing to settle her unease.
“Are you okay? Have you been hurt? What happened?"
"I'm okay, Mione"
"Are you sure? Do you need healing? Because—"
"Hermione, I'm alright, I promise."
Despite his insistence, nausea still rolled through her, as if her stomach could claw its way up her throat. Hermione looked around at the scene as the realisation dawned on her and the fear increased.
“Harry, where is Draco?”
Harry beckoned for them to follow. “He’s stuck beneath the rubble and we can’t get to him,” he said grimly, “I’ve been trying to get him out for over five minutes.”
Hermione was going to be sick.
“Where?” Theo demanded.
Harry led the two of them into the familiar hallway; well, a distorted version of the one she had walked down many times before. The space where Draco’s office was supposed to be was gone. In its place was a mess of broken wood and glass.
A cool curtain of magic washed through Hermione.
Her mind became blank; void of all emotions. Her nausea disappeared.
“We’ll get him out,” she said assuredly, “and I can provide any medical care until the other mediwitches get to him.”
Hermione dropped to her knees to assess the rubble.
“Theo, you begin moving the wood on the opposite side from us; considering that is where his office was, it is most likely he will be under that section, so be careful. Harry,” she turned her attention to him, “you will help me clear a path from this side which will allow me access in, and a pathway out.”
Hermione cast a Homenum Revelio and revealed the glowing outline of Draco’s body about seven feet away.
“Aim for that spot,” she instructed.
Both men nodded and got to work.
After, roughly, ten minutes of clearing, much longer than Hermione would have liked, Theo finally announced that he could see Draco. Having stabilised enough debris on their end, Hermione was confident the pile was less likely to collapse as they attempted to remove him.
Hermione weaved her way through the forged path and crouched beside, a partially covered, Draco.
A large gash was bleeding along the side of his head and, after a quick Vitalis spell, was confirmed to be the reason he was still unconscious. Hermione cleared more of the smaller debris from around his torso and noticed his left arm bent at an odd angle.
“I think his shoulder is dislocated and his wrist may be broken,” she called to the two men who watched her intently. “I can’t see the rest yet until I clear more wood. Stand by in case anything starts to fall as I do.”
After levitating some more pieces of wood from his chest and legs, Draco was now on full display.
Along with his head and arm injuries, Draco had a gash to his thigh which, thankfully, hadn’t hit an artery, and he had a broken ankle. The worst injury Hermione found was a piece of wood that was lodged in his side. It was currently stabilising the blood loss as it remained intact and lodged inside, but the longer it stayed in, the harder it would be to remove due to the build of pressure. Once removed, he would begin to bleed out. Fast.
“I need to do something about this.” Hermione looked back towards Harry. “Are the nurses here yet?”
“They are, but they can’t all fit in such a small space.”
“Tell them to prepare for the immediate extraction of a patient. I will remove the wood, and heal as much as I can here, so he can be taken immediately to Mungos. That way only one mediwitch needs to come here to levitate him out.”
Harry nodded and ran out to the main floor.
Hermione took a deep breath to prepare herself for this completely reckless and unsanitary attempt to remove this piece of wood from an unconscious Malfoy. Hermione could see it would be tricky, but remained surprisingly level-headed. Casting a secondary diagnostic spell, it revealed that the wood wasn’t very thick, but long enough to have caught his spleen.
With a slow twist of her wand, the wood removed itself from his wound.
Blood immediately leaked out and pooled around her knees, soaking into her trousers. The first spell, aimed at his spleen, was to cauterise and close the incision to stabilise the organ first. It took a few seconds due to her limited view but the diagnostic eventually shone blue, indicating the spleen was closed and she could move on. The incision sight was checked and cleaned before a deeper diagnostic was used to check for any internal bleeding.
Hermione worked methodically, knitting together each layer of skin that had been torn, to make sure she removed any hidden splinters. She reached the final outer section and carefully knit his skin back together before inspecting her work. It wasn’t perfect and would definitely need a secondary set of cleansing potions and spells, but it was enough to allow him to be transported to St Mungos.
She took an extra second to quickly clean and close the gash in his head, and pop his shoulder back into place. His broken bones would be too difficult to heal on her own, but they would be fine until he got to the hospital. Hermione removed her hairband and transfigured it into a makeshift sling for his arm. Her fingers brushed over his hand as her mind ran wild about how delicate hands are and how too long of a prolonged blood loss to your hands could affect your wand ability. Draco could deal with losing a foot but not his ability to cast.
A short chuckle from behind pulled her from her thoughts.
“I didn’t know that, Hermione. But I’m sure he’ll appreciate your thoughts for his ability to handle his wand.” Theo said with a slight smirk.
Hermione turned back to Draco to make sure his sling was tight enough; definitely not in an attempt to hide her blush from mumbling all that out loud.
A middle-aged mediwitch she recognised form her work at St Mungo’s moved next to her and levitated Draco back to her colleagues for transport. Hermione stood as they left, knees aching from the wood splinters and shards of glass.
She looked down at her appearance. Blue jeans were now deep burgundy, blood caked her hands and forearms as well as the ends of her hair and, although she couldn’t quite see it, her skin felt tight from some blood drying along the edges of her face.
Harry approached her carefully and scourgified some of the blood from her hands and face.
“You did amazingly, Mione.” He drew her into a tight hug, “Why don’t you head home and get cleaned up. We’ll contact you when he’s awake if you want?”
She nodded dimly and silently made her way towards Harry’s private floo, taken aback by Harry’s office missing its front wall. Whatever caused this had been big.
Hermione stepped out into her living room and, with one look at her safe place, whatever wall had been keeping her level-headed and calm broke. She was drowning. Her legs gave way as she collapsed, sobbing on her rug.
~
A few hours passed since Hermione dragged herself off of her rug and crawled to the shower. She was now sitting on her sofa with a cup of coffee with a curled up Crookshanks. Her familiar had appeared during her crying episode and, in his usual manner, stared at her until she finally deciphered that he was telling her she looked a mess and needed to wash.
Harry’s stag appeared at eight thirty to let her know they’d received word of Draco being stable and awake if she wanted to visit him. They were allowing people in late — something about preferential treatment for an Auror.
It made perfect sense why Harry would assume she would want to visit. Draco was her partner and she healed him after the explosion.
Logical really.
Hermione also knew that they weren’t that close. It would be better for Draco’s close friends to visit him instead of her taking up their visiting hours.
Yes.
She should let the others go and check up on him tomorrow.
Logical.
Hermione left for St Mungos before Harry’s patronus finished its message.
Stepping out of the main floo corridor, Hermione approached the receptionist to inquire as to where Draco was staying but was sidetracked as Theo rounded the corner.
“Ah, there’s the saviour of the moment. Come to check on our darling patient.” He smiled broadly.
“I’m not really a saviour, Theo.” She gave him a hug. “And I definitely wouldn’t call him darling. I just wanted to check that everything has healed okay.”
“Sure you did,” Theo smirked. “He’s in room three. Considering you work here, I’ll leave you to find your own way. I’m heading home. He’s being mean and moany, which means he’s back to normal and has no need for me.”
Hermione chuckled. “I see. Well, that’s a good sign. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
He walked away, but turned back to her abruptly.
“Hermione, I meant to ask earlier. When did you learn Occlumency?” He dropped to a whisper. “I won’t say if it’s supposed to be secret, I just wasn’t aware you could do it.”
“I can’t occlude,” she said perplexed, “I’ve always been awful at it. I struggled to clear my mind long enough to learn and Harry always said I was too emotional.” Her head tilted. “Why do you ask?”
Theo had an odd look upon his face.
“Oh, no reason, I must’ve made a mistake,” he shrugged. “Have a good night, Hermione.”
Theo waved before disappearing into the green flames.
Hermione didn’t dwell too long on the odd interaction, and made her way to the west wing of the hospital. She approached the doorway and hesitated; she would definitely need caffeine for this. Hermione decided upon a small detour to the visitor’s room, down the corridor, for coffee but, as she turned into the room, she was surprised by the occupant.
“Mrs Malfoy?” Hermione froze.
The woman turned and smiled warmly. “Miss Granger, what a pleasure. As I am aware, I owe you great thanks for helping Draco.”
“Please, call me Hermione, and no thanks necessary. It would’ve been a waste of my studies if I couldn’t put my medical degree to use.”
Hermione tucked her hands behind her back, aware they were getting sweaty. It’s not that she was afraid of Narcissa Malfoy per se, it was that she held a sort of… presence. As if she knew more about you than you did.
“Likewise, call me Narcissa.” She smiled softly. “I have heard a great deal about your partnership with my son. Although, I must admit, I was surprised to hear that you were working together. Not that I doubt your abilities,” Narcissa rushed, “but I do not think either of you would’ve picked each other for a first choice of partnership.”
“No, I suppose not.” Hermione let out a small huff of a laugh. “Although, it’s been nice to work alongside someone who can maintain a full conversation without trailing off into quidditch, current affairs or workplace gossip.” She smiled. “I apologise for my shock when I saw you, but Mal— er, Draco told me you were in France.”
Narcissa waved her hand. “That’s quite alright, dear. I was there until this afternoon; as soon as Theo notified me about what had happened, I adjusted the remainder of my plans for the summer so I could return home early.”
Hermione felt stupid for not immediately thinking that she’d obviously returned for her injured son.
“Of course, that makes sense.”
A silence fell over the two women. It wasn’t an awkward pause. More like, Narcissa was assessing Hermione.
“My apologies, were you wishing to order a drink? I’m standing in your way.” Narcissa collected her cup and stood aside, revealing the small, elderly, worker who was sitting behind the visitor’s drinks station.
“Uh, no. Well, I was, but actually I don’t think I need any more caffeine today. After everything. I’m just going to check on how Mal— er, Draco’s wounds are healing and then I’ll be off.”
“Okay, dear. Would you like to go alone?”
Narcissa’s face remained impassive, yet it seemed like this was a test.
“No, please join me.” Hermione smiled broadly. “I wouldn’t want to keep a mother from her son.”
Hermione moved aside to allow Narcissa to exit first, following her down to room three.
“You have a visitor, my dear,” Narcissa announced upon their arrival.
The combined gazes of the steely grey eyes did nothing to help calm Hermione’s nerves.
“Granger? What brings you here on this fine evening?” Draco’s signature drawl signified his return to his usual self.
“Hi, Malfoy.” Hermione gave up the pretences for his mother’s sake. “I just came to see how your side has healed.”
“Ah, yes. My miracle saving on my office floor. Would’ve been better if you’d managed to save my suit. I happened to be fond of that one.”
Dick.
Hermione’s face must have displayed the sentiment because Draco chuckled slightly.
She rounded the bed towards his injured side and Draco leaned slightly to allow better access to the side of his gown. It didn’t seem like there were any other entry points where the nurses had to go back in and remove any missed debris, and the scar was smaller than a sickle. Hermione was proud of her work.
“Looks good and I don’t think the scar will be an issue. With some dittany paste, it should fade completely.”
Absentmindedly, she rubbed her fingertips over the scar to see how raised it was.
Draco hissed when she touched him. Hermione’s eyes snapped to his face.
Draco stared back at her, his eyes now bright blue and open; Hermione stood trapped in this moment of time, held frozen by his gaze.
Narcissa cleared her throat.
Hermione pulled back hastily, resuming time.
“Good. Well, that all looks good, and your arm looks good, so it’s all…” Hermione backed up towards the door.
“Good?” Malfoy finished a smirk tugging at his annoying mouth again.
“Yes. Good.” Her face was on fire. “Goodnight, Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy. I hope you have a nice time back home. I’m sure I’ll see you at another Ministry event soon.”
“Goodbye, dear. I’m sure I’ll see a lot more of you now I’m home.” Narcissa’s smirk was more intimidating than Draco’s.
With a curt nod, Hermione turned and ran back to the floo networks.
His mother sighed. “You could’ve been a little nicer to her, dear. She did help heal you from a fatal injury.”
“Yes, yes.” Draco waved her off. “It’s fine, I’ll send her a thank you card when I’m home.”
“And buy her flowers.” She added as she held her teacup to her lips.
“Mother, I can’t buy her flowers,” Draco protested. “People will speculate there’s more to it.”
“Is there more to it?” She asked almost innocently.
“No, mother. There isn’t more to it. We are simply colleagues. I’m just lucky because she is a trained mediwitch.”
His mother slid into the armchair beside his bed and took another sip of her tea.
“I see.” She paused slightly. “So, the story I heard about a certain handkerchief I believed had gone missing when the Manor was raided was a lie?”
“For Merlin’s sake, mother. Not you too.” Draco raked his hand down his face. “I swear, I will kill Pansy for her meddling in my personal life. It doesn’t mean anything. Granger lost her cardigan and needed something for the chill. That was all I had on hand to offer.”
His mother hummed.
“Were you wearing a jacket?”
Draco’s jaw clicked. “Yes.”
“So, it wasn’t all you had to offer.”
Draco groaned. Resigned that this conversation would not go in his favour, and being much too tired to deal with it, he closed his eyes and attempted to get more rest.
“I’ll send the flowers tomorrow then, yes, dear?” his mother asked sweetly.
“Whatever you wish, mother.”
Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the satisfaction radiating off of her.