The Day After Tomorrow

A GREAT FALL

05 - A GREAT FALL

Neville whipped his head up and down the corridor, ignoring the urgent, stricken chants Ron was repeating over and over, or the way Harry's hands were fluttering helplessly in his lap, they looked afraid. As if they had never imagined that Hermione was fragile that she could die. 

With renewed purpose, Neville struggled to smooth her hair back, hoping somehow to calm her down.

"What's wrong with her? Was she hit by something?" Harry sounded frantic, he was terrified, terrified that this was a Sectumsempra moment – she was breathing the same awful gasps Malfoy had before he'd started bleeding uncontrollably. But she didn't look injured too bad at all, only scrapes and scratches. "Madam Pomfrey will surely know, we have to move her."

"What if that makes it worse?" Ron's voice was pained.

Neville glanced across the greenhouse, Cho had somehow managed to get Blaise on his feet and had since pushed open the door into the sunlight. That's when he spotted the figure of Malfoy sprinting from the grounds and bursting through the glass door, Neville sat back on his heels astonished and too drunk with relief that aid had come.

Even if it was in the form of Draco Malfoy. 

Perhaps Cho and Blaise had sent him down to help, Neville didn't know. Only that he was grateful. He felt Ron and Harry stiffen beside him and ignored them, he was still whispering soothing words to Hermione.

Draco cast a half curious glance around the room his heart beating fast because why had they told him to come here. His wand was buzzing in his hand and maybe it was because he'd expected to catch whoever had attacked Blaise that he'd stopped in his tracks when he'd caught sight of a mop of dark familiar curls. 

It was Granger, crowded by the Weasel, Wonderboy and Longbottom.

Before he could wonder about how or why they'd thought to bring him here, he was sprinting down the corridor of plants, half cursing the useless buggers for sitting on their wands and not helping her. This useless bunch were the famous brave knights of the Light side, Draco wondered.

Ron had her hands gripped in his so hard her knuckles had gone white. Only Longbottom seemed remotely helpful Draco thought as he approached, skidding to a halt beside them and casting them a look that had them backing away. 

"Give her some space for Merlin's sake." Draco couldn't have said why they'd listen but the three of them stumbled back, perhaps it was because they knew that besides Granger, he was the most proficient student in their year. The next student who was halfway decent with healing. He was always number two.

"Granger." All about her was the smell of earth and sandal wood. She heard her name and lifted her head ever so slightly at the noise. It sounded almost muffled as if she were hearing it through a thick layer of cotton, she knew she was having some kind of attack and knew that all she had to do was breathe.

Malfoy was beside her in a second, his eyes were darting across her streaked face, she was soaked through with sweat, her curls sticking in crazed lines over her face. Her skin was blotchy and red with salty tears that he hastily wiped away with surprisingly still hands. "Granger." He repeated quietly, he cast a quick glance at the other boys, his grey eyes locking with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Wasn't this their job?

"I don't understand, I didn't see her hit with anything – but she, she must have because she just collapsed." Neville said quickly looking lost as he turned to the other two thirds of the Golden Trio, as if looking for answers: they looked numb and helpless. He saw Malfoy shake his head, a strange look coming over his pale face, something caught between incredulity and disbelief.