You Raise Me Up

I know! The wait is terrible! But here we are at last!
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Dismayed as she was that Draco didn’t wake up within the first few hours of being in his room, Hermione was even more troubled when the hours turned into days. Hermione had had to be physically dragged out of St. Mungos to bathe and eat, and change her clothes.

What kept her sane was the company that would sit with her. Lucius and Narcissa, of course, but even they would go home to rest and replenish their energies. Hermione, however, feared that Draco would wake should she leave, and had practically moved into his room. Harry and the Weasleys would come by to see her, as it appeared Percy was in the same boat that Draco was. There were several, in fact, that had been subjected to the altered Cutting Curse, and were all sleeping as if in a coma. Their wounds were healing nicely underneath the stitches, but still they slept.

Hermione sat in a chair beside Draco, speaking to him as if he were there. Several of the Healers had told her that it was widely believed that patients in Deep Sleeps could hear if loved ones spoke with them, and would speed their Awakening. Hermione would tell him stories, and jokes, and read aloud from books.

It was reading aloud from a book the Ron found her. Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes had dark circles underneath them from lack of sleep. Her face was pale and thin, and she looked like the living dead.

“And in 1564 Robinton Blaze invented the charm that allowed witches and wizards to surpass the pain of Burnings. Instead of feeling the intense pain of the fire, witches and wizards would feel only a pleasant tickling feeling. Some witches and wizards liked the feeling so much that they allowed themselves to be caught several times just so they could cast the charm.” She said. She had to pause, and clear her throat.

“Hey, Mione.” He said. She looked up from her book, and smiled.

“Hey, Ron.” She said, and cleared her throat again. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Just came by to see if Percy had woken up. No luck. Mum’s beside herself, and the Interim Minister is sucking mud at the job.” He said, and pulled up a chair beside Hermione. “Mione…you look really tired. You need to rest…” he said, his face genuinely concerned.

“But what if he wakes up while I’m asleep? He’d be alone…and what if he’s in pain? There’ll be no one to get a Healer for him…” she said, beginning to tremble.

“Whoah….calm down there, Hermione. Tell you what….if I read to Sleeping Beauty here, will you please take a nap? This can’t be good for the baby….” He said softly. Hermione’s tired, puffy eyes widened slightly.

“Do my ears deceive me? Ronald Weasley volunteering to read a book? Someone check my pulse!” she said, faking a look of surprise. Ron laughed softly.

“Oh, shut it…” he said, giving her a crooked smile. “Come on now, give me that book…actually…that’s not even a book….that is a tome. Please pass it over, and go sleep.” He said, holding out his hand. She gave him the large book, and then stood from her spot, stretching. She then made herself a spot beside Draco on the bed, and settled into his uninjured side.

“Okay. Read.” She said, and closed her eyes. Ron began to read from the massive book, and within moments Hermione was fast asleep, her breathing soft and regular. Ron kept reading, his promise to Hermione on his mind.

~~

The days crept into weeks as the Malfoys waited for Draco to wake up. Hermione had gotten a cot placed in his room, as she would stay overnight every night in the hopes that he would wake up. She was often given reprieve by Ron, who was often there for still the same reason. Percy was still in his own deep sleep, oblivious to the world around him. A few of the patients injured by the strange curse had woken up, completely unaware of the amount of time that they had been unconscious.

Dismay turned to horror as the weeks gently stretched into months. At the first month mark, there were still four patients in deep sleep, including Percy and Draco. At the second month mark, there were still three, including Percy and Draco. At the third month, Percy and Draco were the only ones still asleep. Their wounds had completely healed, but their bodies would not wake. Hermione refused to leave his room, her loyalty to her husband unwavering.

~~

Draco could hear her voice. Soft and melodic…she was talking to him. She sang, and read, and told him stories. She sounded so sad. He could hear the terror and sorrow in her voice. He wanted to tell her it was all right. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her he wasn’t hurting. But he felt so heavy. It was like there was a giant sitting on top of him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t wake up. He wanted to open his eyes. They were so heavy.

He had dreams. In all of his dreams, he was in a large white room. It was ovular in shape. Rounded ceilings…like a dome. A white dome. And there were others there. He saw the Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley, sitting along a wall. They all sat quietly, looking around as if confused. He could hear whispers. There were voices, soft and low, that would speak to him and the others in the room. They were scared and hurt, and he could tell that they wanted them to wake up. He wanted to wake up.

~~

Hermione put down her book, and stood, stretching to ease the tension from her limbs. She leaned down and kissed Draco’s still lips, something she had done every day for the past three months. Being a little over four months pregnant, she was beginning to show. She had a nice rounded spot on her tummy, and she was proud of it. The morning sickness had almost completely gone away, and now it was just a little normal light-headedness that she had to deal with due to the increased blood volume.

Bellatrix had decided to sit in with her today. She was reclined in a chair, her needlepoint abandoned on her swollen belly. She was due any day now, and had been miserable for the past few weeks. She was ready to go, but it seemed that the blasted baby was too frikkin comfortable. She cracked an eye when Hermione stood.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” she suggested gently, shifting when the baby gave a particularly vicious kick.

“I’m not tired…” she lied. She was exhausted, but she didn’t want to risk missing him wake up.

Bellatrix closed her eye, and sighed softly. The girl was going to kill herself. Good thing Lucius and Narcissa were doing the Intervention today. They had decided several days beforehand that they were going to have to physically drag the girl out of the room and put her on bed-rest so that she wouldn’t harm herself or the baby with her selfish vigils. They would probably show up any minute to drag her off. They had informed the Healers and Mediwitches of their intent so that none would interfere when she most anticipatedly put up a screaming fit.

Bellatrix herself had felt a bit off all day. She was tired, and the baby hadn’t been still all day. She was in a half-comfortable position as she reclined in the chair, but due to the babe’s restlessness, she couldn’t concentrate on her needlepoint. She rested her hands on her belly, rubbing gently in an effort to soothe the unborn child.

“Slow down, little one…mummy will see you soon enough…” she said, wincing slightly. She prepared herself for the racket when the ‘Intervention Squad’ entered the room. The group consisted of Lucius, Narcissa, Fred and George Weasley, and Severus. They stood at the door, and Narcissa stepped forward.

“Hermione…we need to talk.” She said. Hermione looked at her, and then at the four men standing in front of the door.

“About?” she said, sitting back in her chair slowly.

“You are going to kill yourself. If not that, you’re going to hurt yourself or the baby. I will not have that happen. You will not hurt my grandchild.” Lucius said.

“You need rest, Mione.” Fred said, and his twin nodded.

“We are here to escort you to Malfoy Manor…forcefully if need be.” George added. Hermione frowned.

“Hell no.” she said, crossing her arms. She heard a snort from Bellatrix.

“This’ll be fun to watch.” The older witch said, and sat up a little straighter.

“This can be done one of two ways: My way, or the way where we have to physically restrain you and drag you home.” Lucius said, drawing his wand. Hermione drew her own wand.

“Don’t fuck with me. I won’t hesitate to hurt any of you.” She said. A stray Disarming curse struck her hand, and her wand flew across the room. She looked at Bellatrix, whose wand was peeking over her large stomach. Tears filled Hermione’s eyes. “I don’t want to leave…” she whimpered.

Fred stepped forward. “Come on, Mione. You know that Draco would pitch a fit if he knew you were harming yourself or the baby. Even mum, as worried as she is about Percy, knows that she’ll do him no good if she’s too exhausted to fatten him up after he wakes up.” He said.

“I don’t want to go….” She cried, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. “You can’t make me…”

“Oh, but we can…” George said softly, and drew his wand. Fred reached out, and took her arm.

“No!” she screeched. As Bellatrix had expected, she began to fight furiously. Lucius cast a Body Bind on her, her head the only movable part of her. She tried to bite as Fred put his arms underneath hers, and struggled to free her legs as George grabbed them, both hauling them out. She shrieked and begged, pleading with them to let her stay. “I want to stay….he’ll be alone….please…” she sobbed.

“He’s a big boy who can take care of himself….” Fred said softly. They walked with her towards the door. Narcissa, Lucius, and Severus were behind them. Bellatrix was still in the chair.

All eyes were on Hermione as she begged. No one noticed the young man on the bed stir, no one noticed the intense silver gaze.

“Drop my wife, Weaselbies…”
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He's awake! And he's mad that they were man-handling his pregnant wife. What will he do? WIll Percy wake soon? Find out next time!!

Review if the urge so strikes you. The plot bunnies are running low. They don't keep going like their cousin, Energizer. They need constant care and fuel. They need care, people! Come one, help the bunnies!!!