The Malfoy Project

𝟖𝟎 - 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

     A nurse shows us to the room where Narcissa is resting. Outside, on the old, rickety chairs against the walls, Draco is sitting with his head hung, hands wringing together on his lap.

     Hannah prods him once the shoulder, the way one would an animal to check if it is alive. "You okay?" she asks brusquely, usual self-assuredness deserting her in the presence of this brooding boy she once loved. 

     He gives a brief nod, strategically avoiding my gaze. "I'm fine. Ernie went to get tea."

     As if on cue, Ernie comes from around the corner with three paper cups gripped steadily in his long fingers. A medical plaster decorates his right cheek, and his left forearm is bound tightly in white bandages. "Oi-oi!" he calls out good-naturedly, grinning from ear to ear. "Everyone alright?"

     We murmur our confirmation, wondering aloud how he could still be so chipper after what happened. He brushes it off gallantly and offers the cups to us. Draco takes his but makes no move to drink.

     The four of us sit in silence for a while, restless but not quite knowing what to say to each other. Hannah is still bothered by our conversation in the previous room, constantly readjusting herself in her seat, which in turn seems to irritate Ernie, who after five minutes decides that he's had enough and jumps to his feet.     

     "Right," he says, assuming a business-like tone. "Ains, how about you stay with Draco, and Hannah and I will go back to school to tell 'Gonnie and Slughorn what happened."

     "No," says Draco immediately. "No one can know what happened."

     Ernie is appalled. "Why ever not?"

     The harsh light deepens the shadows under Draco's eyes as he lifts his head tiredly at Ernie. "Just... don't tell them."

     "They'll find out anyway, you know? 'Gonnie knows everything. I swear nothing escapes that old witch. But fine, we won't tell. By the way, I think it's best if you stayed in the Hufflepuff Dorms tonight. It's the safest place in school for now."

     Ernie's tone is absolute and Draco is too tired to argue, so he can only nod in agreement. Before I can interject to protest, Ernie has taken Hannah's hand, and after shooting us a hasty 'see you later', the two of them disappear with a loud pop, and I am left alone with Draco.

     Cautiously, I scooch two chairs over, closing the distance between us. He ignores me, still concentrating hard at the floor. At first I resolve to leave him alone, but as the minutes tick by, I feel nervous energy building. I sit on my hands before they do something stupid like reach out to hold his.

     "Thank you," Draco says suddenly, breaking the silence. "For what you did back there."

     It takes me a moment to remember my lie about being the granddaughter of Healer-in-Charge. Sometimes I surprise even myself with how easy and naturally lying comes to me. I clear my throat. "Is it like that for you everywhere else?"

     His shoulders lift. "I don't blame them. I don't think I'd be inclined to help the people who probably killed my friends and family, do you?"

     I don't answer because I know he wasn't really asking, but I consider it anyway. If suppose if I had the opportunity to save a Death Eater's life, I wouldn't either. Not after what they did to Bas, and Hannah's family, and their hundreds of other victims.

     But I am neither a Healer nor a nurse. They are Death's most hated adversary, the only kind of magical folk equipped to pull someone from the brink of death. Don't they have some kind of moral oath they have to swear by? Surely they must be somehow be obliged to save the dying — Death Eater or not — any way they know how, and leave punishment to the people delegated to do so?