Кассандра Клэр - Draco Veritas

"Could she die?" Harry, horrified, was looking at Ron, but Ron was staring at the floor, his hands in fists at his sides.

Madam Pomfrey looked as if she were weighing her words. Finally, she said, "It's quite possible, yes."

Blaise burst into tears. This was so unexpected that everyone stared at her for a moment, and she turned away, her hands over her face as if she were horribly embarrassed by her own reaction. Hermione wondered where her own tears were; they felt scalded away by horror. She kept seeing Ginny, a small, brave little figure in her braids and sweater, the Time-Turner gripped in her hand, begging for the chance to risk her own life to save Draco's. And I let her, Hermione thought, appalled. Please, she prayed, please let her be all right, and I promise I'll never treat her like she's a little kid again. Let her be all right and I'll even be happy for her and Draco if that happens, I promise, if she'll just be all right.

Charlie, swearing under his breath, turned away to stare at the wall.

Hermione chanced a glance sideways at Draco: his healthy color had fled and his lips were a bloodless line. "Let me go," he said, his voice as colorless as his face, and shrugged off Sirius and Harry's grips on his arms.

He took a step forward, and Madam Pomfrey looked up sternly. But the warning died on her lips as Ron cut her off gruffly. "Let him," he said.

Draco moved slowly forward, not quite with his old grace yet, but not limping either, and leaned down over Ginny. Gently he touched her bloodied face, and bent to whisper in her ear; his hair fell forward, hiding them both, and Hermione did not hear what he said, though she might have guessed at it, if she'd been so inclined.

Draco drew back. Ginny's head moved a little on the pillow, but she didn't open her eyes. Her breathing was rougher now, and more blood leaked from the corner of her mouth. The hourglass at her throat pulsed and pulsed like a heart. "I must tend to her," Madam Pomfrey asserted, gesturing firmly but kindly for Draco to move back. "Or she'll drown in her own blood."

Draco made a noise in the back of his throat, and moved back, almost stumbling into Harry, who caught at his shoulders to steady him. As Madam Pomfrey bent to tend to Ginny, her wand already out, the infirmary door opened again, and Seamus walked into the room.

Hermione stared at him, astonished. She had almost forgotten his existence. He was neatly dressed, in a black shirt and trousers, clothes she didn't remember him owning before. They showed up the pallor of his hair and the newly-dark blue of his eyes. He strode forward with such confidence that Ron stepped aside, and even Madam Pomfrey straightened up, staring, as he moved to stand next to Ginny. "She's dying," he said.

"Seamus Finnegan," said Madam Pomfrey, finding her voice, "I understand that you're upset about your girlfriend, but would you stand back immediately please-"

Seamus ignored her. Instead, he reached out, and closed his hand over the hourglass at Ginny's throat. Draco made a low growling noise and began to move forward; Harry held him back, staring, as Seamus, with a sudden, jerky movement tore the ancient Time-Turner of Hufflepuff from Ginny's throat. The chain sundered with an audible snap, and Seamus hurled the Time-Turner to the ground-still pulsing with its odd light-and trod on it. It held for a moment, then shattered.

Draco pulled away from Harry. "You idiot," he shouted at Seamus. "What have you done?"

Seamus regarded him calmly. "Look at her," he said, and pointed at Ginny.

They turned to stare; Hermione heard herself gasp. The color had returned to Ginny's face and she was breathing steadily and evenly.

Madam Pomfrey snatched the wand from her pocket and touched it to Ginny's chest, whispering a word under her breath; when she removed it, the tip of the wand was glowing a healthy and reassuring pink. Madam Pomfrey looked around helplessly. "She's all right," she said. "She's going to be fine."

Charlie let out what must have been the longest-held breath in the world; Ron stared in blank amazement, and Draco, still wordless, slumped against the wall. He was nearly expressionless, but Hermione saw that the hands at his sides were fists, and he was staring at Seamus across the room.

Seamus barely seemed to notice. "That's all right, then," he said, and walked out of the infirmary, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Madam Pomfrey looked after him distractedly. "What…an…odd…boy," she said, slowly. "I don't recall him being quite so odd."

"Oh, he's odd all right," said Draco.

Sirius looked at him. "You should be pleased," he said. "He saved Ginny's life." He took a step forward, put a hand under Draco's arm. "You look like you're going to drop where you stand," he said. "Let's get you back to bed."

Draco looked hesitant, but Blaise moved to take his other arm, and he let them lead him back to his cot. It seemed an oddly docile move for him, but Hermione saw his face as he passed, and there was no docility in it, only a sharp light behind his eyes as if he'd realized something not entirely pleasant.

Something touched Hermione's arm. It was Harry, looking at her with a somber gaze-but despite the seriousness in his eyes, she saw, he was Harry again, not the empty specter he'd been for these past few days, but her Harry, alive and warm and real.

She squeezed his hand and let it drop. She saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as she knelt, and began to gather up the shattered bits of the Time-Turner. They lay like scattered diamonds among the grains of white hourglass sand and bent bits of gold chain. Hermione picked up the clasp, warped out of shape by the heel of Seamus' boot. It blurred as, finally, the tears came, slow and hot and delayed.

Harry knelt down beside her. "Hermione, what is it? What's wrong?"

"It's broken," she said, showing him the destroyed bits of the once-powerful Time-Turner, the Hufflepuff Founder's gift to her Heir. "It'll never work again."

"That's all right," Harry said gently, drawing her towards him."We don't need it anymore, Hermione. We'll never need it again," he said, and she laid her head down on his shoulder and let the tears come.

Ginny woke slowly, released reluctantly by the soft darkness that held her. She opened her eyes on more darkness, pierced here and there by shafts of pallid light. Slowly she realized where she was-the smell of soap and medicine, the hard cot under her, the starched sheets. She was in the infirmary, and night had fallen. Her mouth felt dry as burnt toast. Draco, she thought, in a sudden panic. She remembered collapsing in the library, desperately trying to tell Blaise where the antidote was-had they found it?

Suddenly, something cool was against her dry mouth, and smooth, cold liquid trickled in between her cracked lips. Water. She swallowed gratefully. "Not too fast," said a familiar voice, "or you'll choke."

Ginny choked. The glass was withdrawn and she struggled to sit up.

"Draco?" she demanded, or tried to-her voice came on as a rasping whisper.

"Shh," he said, unnecessarily. "You'll wake your brother, and I don't much fancy being pulled back from the brink of death just to be slaughtered by a Weasley for lurking at your bedside."

Ginny stared at him, though all she could see in the darkness was a vague shadow, and turned to look at where Charlie slept, looking worn-out, in an armchair pulled up to the bed. "The others?" she rasped. "Ron—"

"Everyone's fine," said Draco. "Including yours truly, in a remarkable change of pace." He moved to set the water glass on the window sill, and Ginny could see him clearly: the bright hair, the flushed cheeks, the black sweater pulled on over pajamas, the incongruously vulnerable bare feet.

"The one we were all worried about was you."