With Love, || N.B.

𝑻𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒕𝒘𝒐

She pressed a wet kiss to her forehead, salty with sweat and tears. "Je t'aime. Aujourd'hui. Ce soir. Demain. Pour toujours. Si je vivais mille ans, je t'appartiendrais pour tous. Si je vivais mille vies, je te ferais mienne dans chacune d'elles."

__________

"I can help myself, thank you," Draco spat at Eleonora who, despite having an arm that was half covered in blood, had managed to stand up and make her way over to Draco, asking him if he needed any help.

"Alright," she mumbled. She stood to her full height, pressing her robes to the gash in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Hagrid approached her, looking as if he was going to say something. "I'm alright," Eleonora smiled politely. "I'll get myself to Madam Pomfrey. You can take"--she paused, blanking on Draco's name--"him up, make sure he's alright."

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey scurried around, checking glass jars and drawers for a wrap. After gathering everything, she started on the large gash first, applying magic cream and bandaging up her arm.

"Thank you Matron," she smiled, trying to make herself comfortable. "But I'm fine, really."

"Anything for you, dear," Madam Pomfrey chimed. "But I must insist you rest. Now, you can remove the bandage tomorrow. It was quite a nasty gash, and I'd like it to heal fully before you go off and save more people."

"Of course," Eleonora responded, grinning. She looked over to Draco who sat slumped in a chair, very obviously sour that he wasn't getting special treatment. "Will he be alright?"

"Mr. Malfoy?" Madam Pomfrey looked up from a drawer of medical supplies. "Oh, yes. He'll be quite alright. I've notified his parents, they should be here soon."

"Good," Eleonora muttered. "That's good." Malfoy. The name rang over and over in her head, echoing like bells in a church hall on a Sunday. Malfoy. "Wait, you said both of his parents?"

Before Madam Pomfrey had a chance to respond, loud voices and footsteps sounded outside the door. The large double doors of the hospital wing burst open, Lucius Malfoy storming in with his wife trailing behind him--slightly less angry than him.

Eleonora's stomach dropped. Those eyes. The same dark eyes that she had fallen slowly in love with. The same arrogant and cocky attitude that radiated an air of confidence that she wouldn't find attractive in anyone else-but this was Narcissa Black.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, breaking eye contact to look back at Madam Pomfrey.

Narcissa took a deep breath as well, closing her eyes briefly and shaking whatever thoughts filled her head. She continued forward, her heels clicking on the stone floor as she moved to stand beside Lucius who was peering down at his suddenly anxious son.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lucius growled. "You pulled me out of a very important meeting."

"Lucius," Narcissa muttered. "I told you, I could take care of this on my own if you weren't able to."

Ignoring the conversation, Madam Pomfrey butted in. "Your son, here, Mr. Malfoy, was taunting a hippogriff. He's lucky Auror Murphy was out with the class, or he would've earned a one-way ticket to the hospital wing."

"I don't understand," Narcissa sighed, her grip tightening on her purse. "You called us here because our son is alright?"

"Aside from a bruised bum?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Quite."

"He's not alright, dear," Lucius sneered, looking Eleonora up and down. "He was clearly assaulted by this mudblood here. She got what she deserved..."

His voice was silky, but it changed no feeling of hatred Eleonora had for the man in front of her.