31. A Summer Storm

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Not making money from this.

Note: Title for this chapter taken from "Wilder than Her" by Dar. "She makes my life just a little less wild, and I'm wilder than her... She's a summer storm, and I'm a hurricane. One just blows through town. One blows the town away."

Thanks to my beta - eilonwy - as always for tremendous amounts of help with this whole story. It's totally better because of her. :)

ooo

Chapter 31 – A Summer Storm

Draco Malfoy laughed. He had to. If he hadn't, he was sure he'd lose his mind. He was sitting in a cell in Azkaban, one of the heavily guarded ones. He'd been knocked around a bit by a couple of guards and his refusal to acknowledge being beaten only caused them to get angry and hit harder. He was used to far worse.

Now he was holding his bleeding nose and trying to breath without it hurting – another broken rib or two. Great. And he didn't think they'd be sending anyone in to heal them. Why should they? He was scheduled for the Dementor's Kiss the following day at noon. Why waste they magic?

He'd been given the sentence not ten minutes ago. And he'd laughed. Because if he didn't, he'd lose his mind.

In the ten minutes since learning of his fate, he'd decided it wasn't so bad. He would lose his soul, but then he'd feel nothing; be nothing. He'd basically be dead. He would no longer be Draco Malfoy. He figured it might hurt a bit, losing his soul, but then he figured it would hurt a bit losing his life, too. So for him, both options were equal in his mind. The Kiss, he decided, was worse for those left behind who might care about the person who received it than for the person himself. Death was final. Being a soulless zombie was terrifying. To others, of course; not to the zombie.

What really made him angry, in the end, was that finally he cared. He had finally discovered what life was all about. He actually wanted to continue breathing and caring about breathing. He had accepted life, good and bad, and was looking forward to the ride. Draco laughed again at the irony.

Why hadn't he seen this coming? Considered this a possibility? He should have, but it never occurred to him that Harry wouldn't be able to vouch for him, to give those in charge their walk-in agreement, to do something, anything. Instead, Harry was unresponsive in the hospital and Draco's fate was less than sixteen hours away. Harry wouldn't wake up in time.

He thought of Hermione. His heart squeezed painfully as he realized he'd never see her again. He'd promised, and now he would have to break his word. Everything he needed to tell her, to say to her, would never be said. Harry couldn't tell her – the Vow would kill him before he could get two sentences out. And his will wouldn't open unless he died, unless his heart stopped beating.

He looked around his cell to see if there was anything he could use to end his life, so that at least he could keep that promise.

But they wouldn't want to give him a way out. He deserved the horrors awaiting him, and they would be certain he got what he deserved.

Thinking about Hermione made him sad, so sad he thought he would die from it. She had made him want to live, gave him something to live for; he'd fallen in love with her. The real kind, the love that means you'd rather die than see your beloved hurt. Even if he never saw her again, he would think of her every day for the rest of his life.

When he was in Azkaban before, he'd told her that she owed her life to him, when in reality, he owed his life to her. Draco lay on the solid metal pallet and curled his knees up to his chest. He fought the urge to scream at the injustice, or cry out of frustration. His stubborn pride refused to allow him to cry or scream. So instead, he remained curled up on the pallet, angry, frustrated, sad, and for the second time in his life, lost.

He must have drifted into a fitful sleep, because out of nowhere, someone kicked him.

"Get up, Maggot."

He groaned at the pain in his chest and glared at the offender. "Sod off," he muttered.

The guard grinned and elbowed him in the stomach. Draco inhaled sharply, but refused to cry out.

"Get up, little Death Eater." He grabbed the collar of Draco's prison shirt and pulled him to his feet. Draco scowled deeper. "Want a black eye too? Maggot?"

"Don't you have some lollipops to steal from small children?" Draco spat.

The guard grinned again. "Every time you open your mouth you give me permission to hit you again, worm." He punctuated the last word with another blow to Draco's nose, further destroying it and sending pain shooting through Draco's skull.

The guard pushed him out the cell door and into the hallway. Draco scowled, holding his nose as he was led through the prison. He couldn't see where he was going because his eyes were watering from pain. If he had paid attention, he would have recognized where he was being led.

The guard stopped Draco in a hallway outside a nondescript door.

Draco sneered at the man. "We in for a little one on one? Do I get to hit you back?"

The guard returned the sneer. "Can't wait to see your pathetic face when you are unable to speak and all you can do is drool all over yourself." He then backhanded Draco, breaking the skin on his cheek.

The guard opened the door and shoved Draco through it. He stumbled, and didn't fall, but took a sharp intake of breath at the pain around his lungs.

"Draco!"

He blinked the water from his eyes and looked around, realizing he was in a visiting room.

His eyes slowly focused on two figures on the other side of the glass. One had red hair, but was taller than usual; Draco hadn't seen him before. The other was Hermione. He let out a gasp.

"Oh, Merlin, Draco! What's happened to you? Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling as she fully assessed him.

He stumbled to the chair, trying to clear the fog in his brain; probably had a concussion, too. What was she doing here? He sat down hard, causing pain to shoot through him again. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let her see.

"I'm great," he muttered. "Never better."

"I know when you're lying, Malfoy. And the blood running down your face is a big clue. Plus you aren't taking deep breaths, which means something is wrong, probably more ribs. What's with you and ribs, anyway? Come close, let me heal you."

"No. I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes. "Malfoy. Now."

He reluctantly stood and walked up to the glass. "Just the ribs. Don't want them to know I've been healed."

"Who did this?"

"Uh, the guards."

"They hit you?"

"Who did you think?"

"Death Eaters, Voldemort, whoever was around you and Harry earlier."

At this, Charlie's interest was piqued beyond asking himself why in the world Hermione would heal the jerk.

Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, them. No. For once, Harry was their focus. Bellatrix looked like she wanted to rip my lungs out, which is how they feel right now, but the Dark Lord wouldn't let her."

"What happened?" she asked quietly, and finally started healing his ribs.

He sucked in sharply as he felt the pressure on his lungs release. "They don't exactly like me, remember? I'm surprised I'm only this beat up. I'm most wanted: evil Death Eater, Malfoy, arrogant prat. Any of this sinking in at all? They don't know anything, do they? And the Dark Lord is dead, so they're not worried about retaliation for beating up his number one man!" he shouted. She flinched; he was angry at her! He couldn't believe he could be angry at the one person he didn't ever want to be angry at, the one person he would miss, even without a soul.

Hermione's lip started to tremble. He mustn't let her cry just because he was being a jerk.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. Don't, okay?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. You forget how everyone sees me." He glanced at Charlie, then back to her. "How's Harry? Anything?"

She shook her head and seemed to compose herself. "What about you? What's going to happen?"

Now he had to tell her. And he wished he didn't have to. He wanted more than anything to run away from her and not have to tell her his fate. He couldn't bear to see the look on her face. She must have guessed it, or seen it in his face. She put her hand to her mouth, a horrified look on her face.

"When?" she said, barely a whisper.

"Tomorrow. Noon."

She gasped. "So soon?"

He scoffed. "You know the Ministry. They like to make it look like they're not bumbling idiots. Want to make an example of me. Can't you see the headlines now? 'Dark Lord killed; top follower apprehended'. It's exactly what they want."

"It's ridiculous! You wouldn't even be here if you hadn't stayed at the hospital with Harry. You should be off on your island, drinking Mai Tais, getting sunburned by now." She closed her eyes, trying to take deep breaths. "Instead, you're stuck here, and, and…" When she opened them, Draco saw what made him so crazy about the girl. Denial, ferocity, and tenacity.

"No," she said, decidedly. "That won't happen."

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do about it?" Draco could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears as her mind raced.

"Fix it." She turned to leave.

"Wait, Hermione, this could be the last time I see you." He hated to say it, but he just knew it was true.

"No, it's not."

Denial.

"Seriously, what can you really do? Nothing. You're one person against – well, everyone will be demanding it."

"But it's not right."

"You know it is," he said softly. "I'm guilty. That will never change."

Hermione walked back to him, a fiery, scary look in her eyes. "Listen to me, Draco Malfoy. You don't deserve it. I will stop it. That's for certain. You have no idea what I can do."

And he believed that he had no idea what she was capable of. But he still didn't believe she could stop this. His sentence had been set years ago.

"Hermione," he said calmly. "I understand you will try. But you will not succeed."

"Do not say that!"

He wanted to shake some sense into her. "Stop!" he shouted. "Just – stop, okay? I'm okay with this. I've accepted this. You need to too."

"You're wrong." She turned and walked away. "Come on, Charlie. I have work to do."

"Hermione!" Draco called.

She turned around and gave him a determined don't-mess-with-me look. "See you soon." And she left.

Draco wanted to wring her neck; then he wanted to bash his head in. He had a chance to tell her everything, and she was too stubborn to let him. He kicked the chair, he threw it against the wall – twice – and yelled at the top of his lungs in frustration. After about fifteen minutes, he called for the guard.

He was silent the whole way back to his cell. He'd messed up. He hadn't told her. When he was shoved back into his hole, he returned to the metal pallet and curled into a ball again. But he couldn't sleep. All he could think about was how she'd left. Without even a goodbye, just in case.

ooo

Charlie had to jog to keep up with Hermione. When he did catch her, he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

She spun around, eyes flashing.

"Hermione, am I correct in the impression that you are going to attempt to save Malfoy from the Kiss?"

"Yes. Only I will stop it, not just attempt to." She turned to continue on, but he still held her back.

"Why would you do that? He's mud. He's scum. He's not worth the air he's breathing."

"Charlie, I don't have time to explain my actions to you. I have to stop this. Trust me, I've not gone loony. If Harry were awake, he'd be right with me." She pulled free and he followed her to the front desk.

The guard looked up at her and yawned. "Help you, Miss Granger?"

"Yes. I would like to know who ordered the sentence for Draco Malfoy."

The guard frowned. "That Death Eater? The murderer?"

"Hermione gritted her teeth in annoyance. "Yes."

He went through a stack of papers until he found what he was looking for. "Interrogator by the name of Joseph Stephens."

"And where may I find him?"

"It's nearly one in the morning, Miss. He'll be at home asleep."

"And where would that be?"

"I don't know, and if I did, I wouldn't tell you. Why do you want him anyway?"

Hermione thought quickly. She bit her lip and put on a sad look. She even forced her eyes to water. "Draco Malfoy killed my parents," she stuttered.

"Oh, poor thing. He killed a lot of people, didn't he?"

Hermione only nodded.

"Well, I think he lives in Surrey, but that's all I know."

Hermione nodded again, letting one tear fall. "Thank you," she whispered, and took Charlie's hand to pull him after her.

When they were alone, she said, "I can't believe I used my parents' murder to get something I wanted."

When they reached the Ministry, Hermione went to the reception desk. She finagled parts of the address from three different unfortunate late-night employees. Just before Disapparating, Charlie again tried to stop her.

"Hermione, what exactly do you plan to do?"

"Talk to Mr. Stephens."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"No," she said firmly.

"I'm not going to change your mind, am I?" Charlie asked with a sigh.

"No," she said again, smiling. "Come on."

ooo

They Apparated to the right street and walked through the stillness until they found the house, number 425. Hermione marched up the walk and rang the bell. After a few minutes, she rang again and started pounding on the door.

Charlie decided she'd gone mad. There was no other explanation. Harry being in the hospital, the War; all of it had made her crack.

Finally a light came on inside the house and Hermione stopped banging. An older man, somewhat reminiscent of a famous winter old man, opened the door looking quite angry. He was obviously surprised to see a bushy-haired young woman on his front stoop.

"What do you want?" he asked grumpily.

"I need to talk to you about a prisoner of yours, whom you sentenced today."

He stared at her incredulously. "It's nearly two in the morning! This surely could have waited until tomorrow, miss."

"No, it couldn't. You sentenced him to receive the Kiss tomorrow. There's no time to wait."

"Ah, the Malfoy boy? His charges were very serious, and his sentence final."

"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. I wish to speak to you on his behalf."

"You want to defend him?"

"I cannot defend what's he's done, but I can tell you what I know."

The old man seemed to think about it, eyeing Hermione and Charlie skeptically.

"Please, Sir. Give me half an hour of your time. I think I'll be able to show you sufficient reason not to deliver the sentence. It's the right thing to do. It would be wrong to continue."

"That is a serious charge, Miss – " he paused, waiting for her.

"Hermione Granger," she said, extending her hand. "And this is Charlie Weasley."

"Granger?" The man said. "The Hermione Granger?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"Harry Potter's friend?"

"That's me."

"Well, Miss Granger, I'll give you half an hour of my time. Please come in."

Hermione actually told the short version of the story in ten minutes. Stephens asked a lot of questions, however, and she and Charlie were there for over an hour.

"So, Miss Granger, to summarize all that you've told me, Mr. Malfoy has been working with Harry Potter for nine months to defeat You-Know-Who, and you've been helping them." Hermione nodded. "And Mr. Malfoy is a changed man who has risked his life for Mr. Potter on numerous occasions, and has thereby shown that he does not deserve the Kiss." She nodded again.

"But Miss Granger, he is still guilty of many crimes, crimes which happen to come with a lifetime sentence in Azkaban. And if one commits too many of them, it's the Kiss. Has he ever shown any remorse?"

"He told me more than once that he was sorry for killing my parents."

Stephens was surprised; he hadn't known that important detail. He nodded slowly. "You truly believe he's a changed man."

"I would bet a library on it."

Charlie chuckled. "That's everything to her," he offered.

"And what do you expect the outcome to be? That your friend will go free? That is not likely to happen, you should know that. Even if I remove the Kiss sentence, he's still looking at life in prison."

"One step at a time. We'll deal with that when we need to. Right now, I have to convince you it's wrong to take his soul."

The old man smiled. "Does Mr. Malfoy know he's got such a fierce friend fighting for him?"

"He should. I told him I would fix this, but he didn't believe me."

"Indeed? And what do you suggest I do, exactly?"

"Talk to him, Mr. Stephens. Veritaserum. I know he'll agree to take it. That will work."

He sighed. "Well, Miss Granger, I'm going to need some time to think." He stood.

Hermione remained seated. "But Sir, there is no time. Less than ten hours from now. I'm afraid I can't leave until I have something more than that."

Stephens grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Miss Granger, you are lucky I am so patient. Okay, I will see him first thing in the morning, and I will give him the truth serum."

"When is 'first thing'?"

"Hermione," warned Charlie.

"It's all right, Mr. Weasley. She reminds me of my wife – and I love my wife. Seven in the morning. Is that early enough?"

"Oh, thank you!" she said, grinning madly. "Thank you, Sir. I'm so happy! I know you're doing the right thing."

"We'll see. Now scat – I need to get some sleep before tomorrow."

"Of course, thank you!" Hermione and Charlie left and returned to the hospital. Everyone was asleep, but Ginny had remained outside Harry's room to wait for Hermione. Charlie then left then both and returned to the Burrow.

Ginny stirred when she heard Hermione walk down the hall. Hermione peered into Harry's room; he looked the same.

"Hey," said Ginny, sleepily.

"Oh, Ginny! I didn't know you were awake." She sat down next to her friend.

"Did you see him?"

Hermione nodded, exhaustion, fear, and worry slamming into her stomach all at once. They'd finally caught up with her though she'd tried to outrun them.

"Is he – okay?"

She shook her head, feeling hot tears spring into her eyes.

"Oh, Hermione, what is it?"

"Th – the Kiss," she managed to stutter before falling into tired, silent sobs.

ooo

"Get up, Maggot!"

Draco was ripped from sleep by a sharp pain in his side. He felt his ribs crack again. He growled, opening his eyes to glare at the ground. Surely he'd only been asleep a few minutes.

"I said, get up!" The guard went to hit him again, but Draco was sick and tired of being hit, so he stopped the man's fist and held it frozen in front of him. The guard's eyes widened in surprise, and Draco sat up on the slab.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now," the man sneered.

"Why? I've done nothing," said Draco, releasing the man's fist.

He grinned maliciously. "That doesn't matter, you should know that. Now get up; you're to see an Interrogator."

Draco's brain kicked in. An Interrogator? Why? He'd seen one already. The guard shoved him out of the cell roughly and elbowed him in the stomach. Despite his resolve to remain silent, being beat so soon after waking was more than his foggy brain could handle. He let out a small groan, which made the guard smirk in triumph.

"Now move." The guard again led Draco through the prison to an interrogation room. He opened the door and pushed Draco through. It was all Draco could do not to spit vile things at the man. If he hadn't sworn not to kill again, he would likely have beaten the man to death with his bare hands.

When Draco turned around, he saw an old man sitting at the table. Draco recognized him as the man who'd sentenced him to the Dementor's Kiss the day before.

The man stood and held out a hand. "Joseph Stephens. We met yesterday."

Draco eyed the hand it warily and then cautiously shook it, saying nothing.

"And you are Draco Malfoy." Well, no kidding. The man looked him over, a pleasant glint in his eyes. It almost made Draco scowl further. "You have a small fan club, Mr. Malfoy. And she makes a lot of noise."

Realization struck him. Granger. He groaned and sat across from the man heavily. Now what had she done?

"What about her?" he asked.

The man chuckled. "She came to my house last night at nearly two in the morning." Draco's eyes widened. "And she convinced me to see you today."

Draco shook his head. "I'm sorry. She's very impulsive and headstrong."

"Ah, yes. So I gathered. Well, I am here. Miss Granger told me a very interesting story that I wish to talk about with you. I believe she desires your ultimate release, but I think we both know that's not very likely."

Draco nodded.

"Good. Her primary aim is a removal of the sentence I awarded yesterday." He reached into a folder and removed a few sheets of parchment. "This is a list of questions I wish to ask. I will give you the truth serum. Please read through them; if there are any questions you would not like to answer, let me know, and I will leave you to ponder your fate." He handed Draco the list.

Draco was careful not to break eye contact with the Judge. He did not look at the questions put before him. "I'll answer them," he said.

Stephens looked at him skeptically. "Not even a glance?"

"I know what I've done. Let's get this over with."

The Interrogator nodded and took back the stack of questions. He pulled out a vial of clear liquid and poured four drops into a cup of water sitting on the table. "Everything we discuss is between us. Drink up."

ooo

The Interrogator questioned Draco for over two hours. He asked about Draco's childhood, his parents, Death Eaters, his activities for the Dark Lord, what led to his change of heart. Though Draco couldn't fight the truth serum, he still resisted telling him what happened the night he went to Hermione's house. But he had no choice, and so a third person learned the secrets he kept from Hermione. Then he moved to Draco's actions over the last two years; what he and Harry did; how Hermione was involved; what happened the day before when Voldemort was destroyed. He asked for his emotions, his feelings, for everything. He asked about remorse.

Finally Draco was brought out of the effect of the serum. He smiled warmly at him. "So, do you love her?"

Draco froze. "What?"

"Miss Granger."

Draco blinked, his heart racing. "Uhm, well, I – uh – don't know how to answer you."

"It's a yes or no question, Mr. Malfoy. One or the other will do."

He ran a hand through his golden hair. "The thing is, Sir, having never discussed this with… her, I am hesitant to answer you now. It seems as though she should hear it before… well, anyone." He looked at the old man who appeared to be waiting for his answer. "I honestly can't say. I think so – no, I do – but at the same time, I don't trust myself with feeling or – the L word. It's completely foreign to me."

"I see. Do you intend to tell her? Along with all of the other things you must tell her?"

Draco shifted uneasily. "I suppose it depends on how she handles the other information."

"I do hope you didn't mind me asking you that very personal question about Miss Granger. I needed to gauge how willing you are to tell me the truth now that you're out from under the effects of the Serum."

Draco nodded once. "I… hope my answer was satisfactory."

The man smiled, and stood. "It was. Well, Mr. Malfoy. Thank you. I am glad Miss Granger came to me. I value justice, honor, and love very highly. It would be wrong, in my judgment, to enforce my sentence. I will stay the Kiss, pending a conversation with Mr. Potter."

Draco blinked. "Sorry?"

"No punishment for you – yet. If Mr. Potter can corroborate your story, and show me good reason not to resume my sentence, I will delete it. But I'm afraid life in Azkaban is the only fitting punishment."

Draco nodded, thinking it wouldn't be a long life, considering the way he'd been treated by the guards.

"Well, thank you, Sir."

Stephens studied Draco's face. "How are you being treated? You look awful. Blood nose, long cut along your cheek – anything you want to tell me?"

Draco didn't actually think the old man would listen or help – more likely he'd make things worse. "No, Sir," he said. Stephens looked unconvinced. "Believe me. What they've done to me would only be considered a warm-up to my father."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, Mr. Malfoy, would you like to see your fan club?"

"She's here?"

"Oh, certainly. Probably just to make sure I kept my word," he said, smiling.

"There will be no living with her now."

"Why do you say that?"

"She told me she would get this done, and I told her she would not."

The man chuckled. "She is something else, that one. Never underestimate a woman with a purpose."

"You have no idea. Yes, I'll see her."

Stephens opened the door and started to walk out when he stopped and turned back to Draco. "Oh, by the way, Mr. Malfoy. I did ask you that question under the Serum. He paused, a twinkle in his eye. "You said yes." Then, with a twinkle of his eye, he shut the door behind him.

Draco chuckled.

Nearly two seconds later the door burst open again and something brown ran in and nearly tackled him. Hermione flung her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely, causing Draco to wince in pain. He pushed her off him, clutching his side.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Not again!"

He shrugged. Then he noticed she'd not come alone. "Hi, Ron."

"Malfoy."

Hermione sighed heavily. "Let me fix them again. When did this happen?"

"It was my wake-up call."

"It's really awful the way they treat prisoners here. Honestly, you would think there would be some kind of rule against that."

"I think even if there were, they would make a special exception for me. Ow."

"Sorry." She finished healing Draco's ribs, again, and stepped back. "How's that?"

Draco took a deep breath. "Great. Thanks."

Hermione started grinning wildly. "I told you so."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, congratulations," he said sarcastically. "Your unparalleled pestering and nagging got you what you wanted, yet again."

She pouted. "What, no, 'thank you, Hermione, for saving my life'?"

He looked intently into her eyes. "Thank you, Hermione."

The tone of his voice caused her heart to skip a beat, then start pounding.

Draco looked at Ron. "Anything new with Harry?"

He shook his head. "They think he'll wake up soon. He's starting to come around; you know, responding to things."

"Stimuli, Ron," said Hermione.

"Whatever. Things."

Draco smiled. "Good."

The door opened then, and the guard came in the room and looked at Ron and Hermione. Draco's smile was instantly replaced by a scowl; the guard kept his gaze on Hermione too long. Draco stepped between them and faced the man.

The guard sneered at Draco, then pulled out a stick. "Move, Maggot," he spat in Draco's face. Draco glared at him, but said nothing.

He turned around to Hermione. "Later."

She nodded, afraid of what the man would do to Draco.

Once alone in the corridor, the guard pushed Draco with the stick, digging it into the small of his back where his kidneys were, causing a dull pain. Draco clenched his teeth but said nothing.

"That your girlfriend?"

Draco tensed, and the guard saw it. "She's real pretty. Think she'd like a tour of the prison?"

Draco refused to be baited. He spent his efforts imagining all the ways he would cause the man pain if he were able. And he had quite an assortment from which to choose. When the guard stopped him, Draco saw they were in a new part of the prison he hadn't been in before. The torture rooms, he guessed.

The guard opened the door and pushed Draco in, then slammed the door shut. Draco looked around. It was another cell, only it was very slightly nicer than his old one. But only very slightly. Draco sighed and sat on the slab, running a hand through his hair. He needed sleep. Two hours of grueling questions that he didn't even remember had tired him, plus he'd had very little sleep the night before which had been constantly interrupted by shooting pain.

There was a knock on the door, then it opened, admitting a small, older witch, who was obviously frightened out of her wits. She hesitated before closing the door, knowing it would just be the two of them.

She looked at Draco, fear emanating from every fiber of her. It seemed she'd been rendered mute.

Draco sighed. "Can I help you?"

"I – I'm here to – to – " She pointed at his face.

"What?"

"Uhm, your nose."

"Oh. Lovely." The nurse didn't move. "I won't hurt you, if that's your problem. Can't. You should know that if you work here."

"Yes. But – you're – "

"Please, just fix my nose and go." She stood rooted to the spot. Draco rolled his eyes and stood, waking one step toward her.

She held her wand out in his face. "Stop! Right there!"

"Are you going to fix it or not?" he asked, getting annoyed.

"Yes. Just – sit, okay?"

"Fine." He sat back down and the nurse edge over to him. He sat on his hands to further show the woman he intended her no harm. The nurse finally reached him and examined his nose. She wasn't at all kind and gentle, like Hermione, and he had to bite his lip at the pain.

"Broken," she announced.

"You think?" he muttered, scowling.

She glared at him and pointed her wand at his nose. She muttered a spell and Draco felt the bone and cartilage snap back into place. "There." She turned to go.

"Hey, wait. What about this cut?" he asked, pointing to his cheek.

"Just the nose," she said, her eyes mocking him.

"Fine. Go," he growled. The nurse's eyes lost their laughter and turned to fear. She scurried out the door.

Draco felt his nose to see that it was returned to its usual form. He'd need a mirror to be sure. He sighed. He knew now what his life would be like if he were released. That nurse acted like they would all act. Afraid, spiteful, and hateful, and there would be nothing he could say in his defense. He fell into a troubled sleep.

ooo

A/N: Hope you liked it! Happy Friday!