Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling.
A/N: This is technically the final chapter with only an epilogue to go to tie up all the loose ends.
Don't forget to read the AN down the bottom and send you questions to me addressed to either Draco or Hermione!!!
"Why hasn't he woken up?"
She glanced at him with a frown, dark circles beneath her eyes. She lowered Ron's wand once more to the table and dropped into the nearest seat. Her eyes passed silently over the two hospital beds located on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's and closed her eyes wearily.
Blaise paced before her, his hands clenched tightly behind his back. He stopped suddenly and stared into her eyes.
"Why hasn't he woken up, Cat? He's not responding to any of the treatments is he?"
Cat looked away, her grim expression eluding Blaise. She clenched her teeth and shook her head. She didn't know what to say to him. How do you tell a grown man that his best friend was beyond help?
"He hasn't been responding to treatment, Blaise, because he's had no treatment."
Blaise's eyes widened and horror flashed across his features as he drew her up from the rickety seat and shook her by the arms.
"What? What do you mean? Why the hell not?"
Cat remained limp in his grasp. There was no reason to fight him now; he needed to rage against something and he would stop himself before he harmed her. She watched the changing expressions on his face; watched the anger fade into despair. Cat raised her hand to rest on his and gently pried away his fading grasp.
"What would you recommend as treatment for the killing curse, Blaise? There's nothing we can do. He's dying."
Blaise shook his head vehemently and darted away from her, towards Draco's pale form. Against the hospital issued stark white sheets, the blond looked more faded than ever.
"That's not true. He's alive; the killing curse would've finished the bloody job!"
Cat rubbed her eyes, tears gathering behind her closed lids. The moisture burned but she forced herself to open her eyes nevertheless and meet Blaise's accusing glare.
"Look. There have been documented cases of this. You saw the scorch marks on the mirror and you saw the echo of Weasley's curse. It must have hit them both."
"You're lying! If there had been cases of people surviving the Avada curse, then we would've all heard about it."
"That's because every "survivor" has died days later." Cat screamed. She didn't want him to hold onto false hope, no matter how much he needed it. In the end, it would make Malfoy's death all the more painful.
"I'm sorry." She whispered. "The curse must've rebounded off the mirror and hit them both. They're dying, Blaise. Draco is losing life force every moment; at this rate…he'll be…gone by tomorrow."
Blaise paled suddenly, stumbling back as his legs gave out beneath him. "Tomorrow?"
"I'm so sorry Blaise." She laid a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged off her comforting gesture. He darted forward and grabbed at Draco's limp form, shaking him violently until Blaise had dislodged the sheets.
"Wake up!" He shouted. "Fuck! Just…hell, this isn't the way a Malfoy dies, we've discussed this! Do you want your fortune to revert back to the ministry? Those gold grubbing, pudgy fisted bastards. You hate them remember? You hate them." He emphasised each word with a rough jerk until Cat pushed him away violently.
