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Out of the Darkness by lunar

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Darkness. Emptiness. Silence. No – muffled thumping. Voices…slurred, mingled. He lay there unmoving, unmovable. Him. Himself. A person. Malfoy. That’s it. Draco Malfoy. That was him. He was Draco Malfoy.

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Hermione woke up the next morning to find the room empty. She dressed quickly and peeped into Ron and Harry’s room only to find fast asleep, Ron snoring loudly every few seconds. Grinning, she crept downstairs into the kitchen where Mrs Weasley was making breakfast.

“Oh, good morning, Hermione,” Mrs Weasley beamed, transferring sausages and eggs from a pan onto a pile of plates. Ginny, who was already sitting at the table, raised her hand in greeting before hurriedly stifling a yawn.

“Morning,” Hermione said, sitting down beside Ginny. “The boys are still asleep, I checked on them when I was upstairs.”

Mrs Weasley smiled. “Why am I not surprised? Oh well, the poor things they hardly ever have the time to sleep in any more.”

Hermione and Ginny raised their eyebrows at each other but before either of them could answer the two boys appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“Morning,” Hermione said, smiling at their tousled heads. The boys merely grunted in reply. They sat down opposite the girls. Ron rubbed his eyes and looked up at his mother.

“Did Malfoy wake up yet?” he asked. Mrs Weasley’s smile faded slightly.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. Ginny’s head jerked up from her sausages and eggs as she at them accusingly.

“ Malfoy? As in the Draco Malfoy that went to Hogwarts?”

Harry glanced at Mrs Weasley. “Can we tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Ginny demanded immediately. Mrs Weasley sighed.

“You might as well. She’ll need to find out sometime and there’s no time like the present.” She then set down plates full of food and bustled off to make tea.

“Well?” Ginny prompted. Hermione told her about the events that had occurred the night before, with the help of Harry and Ron and by the end of it Ginny was staring at them with her mouth open, her plate of food lying forgotten beside her elbow.

“So Malfoy is staying here, in this house, with us?” Ginny groaned theatrically.

“Yes with us. He’s unconscious at the moment and he hasn’t shown any signs of life yet but when he wakes up I expect you all to behave yourselves,” Mrs Weasley said, looking at them sternly as she waved her wand and the dishes began to dry themselves.

Hermione, Ron and Harry exchanged dark looks and excused themselves from the table soon afterwards. Hermione spent the rest of the day reading and playing wizard chess against Ron and Harry, who had improved spectacularly over the years. But even as she centred all her attention and concentration on saving her Queen, the thought of Malfoy lying unconscious a few floors above her was constantly nagging her. From the trances of deep thought into which Harry and Ron slipped into regularly, she took it that they too had Malfoy on their minds.

Later on that day she sneaked upstairs to Malfoy’s room. It hadn’t changed at all since Ron had moved downstairs. The walls were still covered with Chudley Cannons wallpaper (though Ron had given up on them months ago) which clashed horribly with the new violently pink curtains. Malfoy himself was lying on the bed, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. His hair was matted and greasy and lay over his eyes, partially covering his pale face. Hermione moved a step closer. She couldn’t get over seeing Malfoy without a sneer on his face. She was about to move even closer when Mrs Weasley’s voice floated up the stairs, calling them for dinner and causing her to jump in alarm before hurrying downstairs.

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After dinner Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Mrs Weasley retired into the sitting room. Mr Weasley still wasn’t home from work though they were expecting him in at any moment. At about half past seven there was the sound of the back door opening and several voices could be heard in the kitchen.

Mrs Weasley stood up and went out of the room. The others waited a few seconds before following her. Mr Weasley, Professor McGonagall and a man that Hermione recognised as Healer Manken had all seated themselves around the table. Mrs Weasley was busy pouring tea into three cups.

“Thank you, Molly,” McGonagall said, as Mrs Weasley set a mug down in front of her. Manken nodded his thanks and yawned widely.

“How’s he doing?” he asked obviously referring to Malfoy.

“Oh, he hasn’t moved,” Mrs Weasley replied. “I checked on him a while ago.”

“Well I personally think we should have someone up there all the time in case he wakes up.” Manken looked pointedly at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny who exchanged irritated glances. Mr Weasley sipped his tea.

“I suppose that wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” he said thoughtfully. The four gaped at him as Manken puffed out his chest in pride.

“Harry and I wouldn’t be able to do it,” Ron said quickly. “We aren’t here half the time.”

“And I have all my homework to do so I won’t have time,” Ginny added. Hermione glared at them.

“Thanks,” she said sarcastically then sighed. “I’ll do it then. I suppose I can always read while I’m up there.”

“Excellent,” Manken boomed. He got to his feet, leaving his tea untouched. “Perhaps we can go up now and I’ll show you a few things that might come in handy?” Without waiting for an answer he started off up the stairs, Professor McGonagall with him. Hermione cast a last pleading glance at the others before trailing slowly after them.




“Now,” Manken said, panting slightly as they reached the top floor. They stepped inside the room and Hermione and Professor McGonagall stood to one side as Manken bent down to examine Malfoy. He listened Malfoy’s breathing, felt for his pulse, prodded him to see if there was any reaction and gently prised his eyes open to see of there was any sign of life. When Malfoy remained the same as before Manken frowned, looking perplexed. He continued to stare at Malfoy for some time until Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and said:

“Perhaps you had better explain to Miss Granger here exactly what it is you want her to do? Otherwise we may want to go downstairs again; it’s freezing up here.”

The frown wiped itself from Manken face as he nodded his approval and beckoned Hermione forward.

“Now,” he said. “All you have to do is sit and watch him and make sure to tell us if he moves or stops breathing or anything, OK?” He spoke as one would to a two year old and Hermione felt highly indignant. However, she forced herself to remain calm and replied in a most adult tone:

“Yes, of course, sir.” Manken looked extremely pleased with himself and bustled out the door. Hermione glanced at Professor McGonagall, who gave her the ghost of a smile before following Manken. Hermione cast a last glance at Malfoy before closing the door. In that second she was suddenly reminded of all the times she had seen that face, sneering and ready to pass a spiteful or nasty remark. Feeling slightly sick, Hermione walked slowly down to the room she shared with Ginny. She didn’t feel much like talking to any of the others so she got straight into bed. Tomorrow, she thought as she snuggled down in the bed, is going to be a long day.