Chapter 11 : Draco's Angst
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Draco Malfoy was pacing the room, angry tears glistening in his eyes. The damn nurse had locked the door, preventing him from leaving and tearing the hospital to pieces. Walking next to the door, he stopped and banged his fist against it, looking down; His anger slowly turning to despair again. He slowly slid down the wall running his fingers through his hair and collapsed, sobbing, at the bottom. Why wouldn’t they tell him anything? Why couldn’t they just fix everything? This was their job!
He slowly cradled his head into his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. What would Hermione say when she was awake long enough to remember? Would she blame him? Would she hate him? He pulled himself off the cold tile floor, wiping his eyes, and made his way toward her hospital bed. She looked so small, attached to all the wires and tubes. Picking up Hermione’s soft hand, he placed his other one on her stomach and knelt next to her. He put his mouth close to her bump and whispered, “Shhh, daddy’s here, alright? It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. I’m so so sorry.” He could barely get the words out again as he choked on the lump that had formed in his throat.
He pulled back the covers from the large hospital bed Hermione was lying in, careful not to bump any wires, and laid down beside her, keeping one hand over her swollen stomach. Hot tears were brimming over again but he didn’t try to stop them. He just let them fall and remembered all the memories they had made together, at first the tentative, untrusting camaraderie, and then the building happiness together.
“Granger, are you okay?” Malfoy called out. The girl had been walking down the hallway, looking quite pale and shaky. Not that he cared, he reminded himself. Of course he didn’t care. Why would he? Helping her the other day had been a temporary act of weakness but now he remembered he was better than her. So why was he asking now? Politeness. If he had been taught anything as a child, it’s all about appearances. And he would uphold his.
“Yeah, I’ll be alright, thanks,” she replied. She looked a bit confused still but that was to be expected. First, she had passed out, waking up again in Malfoy’s room- now he was checking up on her? She smiled at him kindly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He could tell she didn’t want to be talking to him. He nearly sneered in response but kept it to himself. What makes her think he wanted to talk to her either? He nodded to her as she passed and she stopped, turning.
“Thanks for the other day again, by the way. It was kind of you to take care of me.” She had blurted out. At the time, Draco had wondered why she was talking to him again before it hit him. Politeness. Just like him, she had been raised to keep up a certain appearance. He smiled in response and continued on his way.
Draco was torn from his daydream as he heard two healers mumbling outside the heavy door. Peeling back the covers, he walked closer to get a better hear.
“I don’t know, Evangea, I just don’t know. It seems like the baby boy is rejecting any medication we inject through the mother. I’ve tried nearly everything, save for drastic measures. I’m beginning to think we won’t have a choice though. I’m afraid if we don’t act soon, we may lose him.”
“I know, I was thinking the same thing but I just can’t imagine anything else we could try.” Draco saw a healer lean in to peek through the window. “I just feel so bad for them. I can tell that the father is really upset, almost like he knows. He’s gonna go crazy if we don’t figure out what to do soon. And that poor girl, she seems so young and so sick. I can tell she’s in a ton of pain, but she’s hiding it. Just look at her, Liza. She’s so frail right now. I know it’s not a good state for the babies either but there’s not much we can do.”
Draco saw the other healer, Liza, peak through the window, a forlorn and weary expression on her otherwise pretty face. She heaved a sigh before she turned back around.
“I’m just scared about this one, you know? I’m not sure what else to do without taking drastic measures. I’m sure the patient will be fine but the babies… especially the boy. I just don’t know.”
After a few moments of silence, Draco heard the healers sigh and footsteps leave the door. He slowly moved back towards the bed Hermione’s body lay in. Peeling back the covers again, he laid beside her, eyes burning.
Clutching her hand tightly, Draco whispered, “Hermione, please wake up. I’m going crazy right now. Every time you wake up, they just give you medicine to put you back to sleep. I don’t know what’s going on but it’s not good.” He drew in a deep, choking breath before continuing. “I love you, Hermione, and the babies. I don’t know what I’m gonna do but I promise that everything’ll be alright. I promise, okay? Just please, please wake up soon.” He finished with a sob, drawing in closer to her.
That night, Draco Malfoy didn’t sleep. He held Hermione all night, waiting for her eyes to open again and tell him everything was alright. It never happened. He watched her breathing, soft and steady, and it soothed him, but not enough to make the tears stop. As the first warm rays of morning’s light flooded the room, Draco wiped his eyes and cupped the small girl’s face in his hands, kissing her lightly.
“Hermione, I promise you, I’m going to get some answers today. Everything’s gonna work out, alright?” He whispered softly. And one more tear fell.
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