分卷阅读40（1 / 2）

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that in here,” He says, finally, when she’s gone through half a pack and the butts are sure to be littering the ground outside, falling onto unsuspecting muggles. “Seems like a hazard.”

He found it disgusting, actually. It smelled, and even if she thought to leave the window open, the smoke would stay. “That’s funny, Draco.” She stared at him over the top of her magazine, and he noticed for the first time how much heavier her make up had gotten. Still pretty, but now she was making it noticeable, like glittering with every twist and turn was her version of armor. “But I don’t remember asking.”

Penelope checks in on him personally, and Luna comes to show him the newest edition to the Quibbler (she had taken over in the absence of her father, and due to some influence of both Hermione and Ginny, it was now something of an academic marvel, printing all kinds of things about new spells and medical advancements and reports on dangerous creatures that aren’t actually that dangerous), spreading the magazine out in front of him and asking for his advice on the formatting. “Hagrid’s a respected breeder now? Of what?”

“Blast ended skrewts,” She answered, looking up from drawing on his dark mark, so now that instead of a snake, it looked like it was spitting out mouthfuls of flower petals. “They’ve become quite popular over in Egypt.”

Lee Jordan comes for an interview, which Draco says no to, and then stays to eat his way through the pile of chocolate frogs on Draco’s bedside table. Dean and Seamus show up to pop in and wish him well, but leave too fast for a real conversation. Even Ginny drops in, holding a squawking Teddy on her hip and dropping him into Draco’s arms the first chance she gets, claiming that she’s too tired to do so for even another moment.

George comes, too, even though he doesn’t talk, just sits in that same chair and stares, occasionally answering when Draco asks him a direct questions, but that’s alright. Draco likes the quiet.

It’s the third day before Hermione shows up, her hair pulled back into a braid that was already starting to fall out. She doesn’t say anything, just edges into the room with her hand spread across her ribs, and Draco was reminded of everyone’s mentions of how sore she was. “Hey.” He scoots back into the bed so he is resting against the headboard. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh, Draco,” She says, moving her hand from her ribs to cover her mouth and staring at him, eyes wide. He barely has time to think about how easily she cries before she is bursting out in tears, sinking down into the chair beside his bed and bawling into her hands, letting out hitching little gasps that reminded him of how much it must hurt her to breathe. “I’m sorry—” She shook her hands out in front of her like that might calm her down, wincing at the movement. “I promised I wouldn’t do this, I told myself, I said, he doesn’t need this, Hermione, you’re just going in to have a nice visit, but—” She lets herself look at him again and bursts into tears, this time wheezing with the effort of continuing to take in deep breaths. “Oh, Draco.”

He was stupid not to have expected this. “Hermione.” He holds an arm out to her but she is too far away to give her a hug and he cannot bring himself to get up from the bed. It would just hurt too much, and he’s pretty sure the effort would make her burst into tears again. “It’s not your fault.”

“How could it not be?” She wailed, and the volume makes him wince. “You only got hurt because I was too stupid to notice what was happening.”

“Why would you have expected anything like that to happen?” Draco demanded, his own voice climbing and becoming increasingly higher pitched. “We were in the Ministry of Magic!”

“It’s not like they’ve stopped bad things from happening before!” She shot back, and this was familiar, easy. “They’re all terrible at their jobs, honestly.”

Her comment was derisive, and funny, and then Draco was laughing and could not stop even though it hurt. After a moment of watching him, Hermione smiled, just a smallest twitch of the lips. “You are alright, aren’t you?” She asked, when it was all over and he had calmed himself down. “I would feel terrible if you weren’t alright.”

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t. Everything hurt because they wouldn’t heal him any further, and people kept dropping in even though he was tired and would rather sleep, which made him feel like an awful person, and all the potions he had to drink tasted awful. “Be better if Harry dropped in, though.”

He still hadn’t stopped to say hello. Every time he heard the door opened, he looks up expecting to see him and is disappointed all over again. At this rate, he better be coming up with a very good excuse as to why he hasn’t been here yet.

“Harry’s…” She hesitated, and he could tell she was deciding which side to go with— comforting Draco or keeping Harry’s trust. “He’s getting something done, Draco. Something we all should have taken care of, a long time ago.”

“Something important?”

Hermione was watching him with sad eyes. “He thinks so.”

“More important than me?”

“Oh, Draco. I don’t think there’s anything Harry finds more important than you, lately.” Hermione stood up with another wince and gathered her bag over her shoulder, leaning down to give him a hug before she leaves. “I expect that’s part of the reason he’s doing it.”