Chapter 37

                                    

                                          
Draco Malfoy carried an unconscious Hermione Granger up the grand staircase of his ancestral home to his mother's bedchamber. Narcissa and Professor Snape ran ahead to assemble the potions needed to counter the curse Hermione had been attacked with in the Thought Room of the Department of Mysteries. Ronald Malfoy did his best to keep up with them, cradling his wounded arm.
                          
"Mum," Ronald called softly, as if wary of waking Hermione. "Mum, there's another wounded person coming. She should arrive any moment."
                          
They stormed through the bedroom door, Narcissa rushing to the medicine chest stashed beneath her vanity. She flung it open, handing vial after vial to Snape. She glanced up as Draco brought Hermione into the room. "Not on the bed. Take her to the chaise. She'll need to be propped up to swallow all of these."
                          
"Mum," Ronald tried again. "It's Molly. She's been hurt by some kind of cutting spell."
                          
"How badly?" was all Narcissa asked, drawing a potion up into a syringe.
                          
Ronald swallowed. "Big pool of blood. Couldn't stand or speak much. Dad was closest when she fell. I reckon it will be him that brings her."
                          
"It had better be him. No one else can get in here," she said, still showing no emotion but stoic concern for Hermione, the patient at hand. Narcissa paused for hardly a moment to look at Ronald himself. "Go to the bath and run some cool water over that arm."
                          
He obeyed, watching over his shoulder for Molly and Lucius to arrive. It was taking too long, as if something new, something even worse had gone wrong.
                          
Narcissa nudged Draco aside as she took Hermione's arm and injected the first of the array of ten potions, this one coming through a vein at the inside of her elbow. "She can't swallow anything in her sleep. It's too dangerous. She needs to revive, though she will be in pain."
                          
As the potion hit her bloodstream, Hermione drew in a deep breath. "Harry!"
                          
Ronald came trotting out of the bathroom at the sound of her voice, his arm wrapped in a clean white towel. "He's with the Order. They came for us. It's -- it's alright, Hermione," Ronald said, though he was near tears again, not truly able to promise her anything was alright, not when Molly was fading away somewhere, and the battle between the Order and the Death Eaters had been far from decided when they got away.
                          
Hermione was too lost in the fog of the curse to notice his hesitation. She did recognize his voice, and managed to moan back at it, "Go, Ronald. Get out."
                          
Draco took her thrashing head in his hands, hushing her. "You are out. Ronald brought you home. You're with us, Granger. I know it hurts, but you're safe."
                          
Snape tapped Draco's arm with an uncorked vial.
                          
"Here, drink this," Draco said, raising the potion to Hermione's lips as she whimpered in pain. "You've been cursed and you need this to get better."
                          
She didn't seem to understand until the clear, thin liquid, like water, was washing into her mouth. She gulped it down, as if desperately thirsty.
                          
"Good girl," Narcissa cooed. "Eight more potions to go. The next comes with wandwork and a poultice over the point of impact."
                          
Narcissa's hands were on the hem of Hermione's shirt when the room shook with the crack of an apparation. Standing on the rug after apparating from the fireplace downstairs was Lucius, covered in blood from the bright red fingerprints on his cheek and jaw to the rusty stains on his shoes. In his arms was Molly Weasley, still and cold.
                          
Snape rushed to take her from Lucius, pivoting to lay her on the bed, tearing her robe open to see the gash torn in her flesh from one of her shoulders to the other. "Cissa, come quickly," he called.