Work Text:
Moon, tell me if I could
Send up my heart to you
So, when I die, which I must do
Could it shine down here with you?
- My Love Mine All Mine, Mitski
Somehow, Draco always had this idea in mind that we'll die first than Hermione; there was a lot of evidences along the turmoil that shaped their lives and eventually made them bumped into each other and find some peace, but he could see more of them in the war, that bloody war, and all of those things he done and how they both went through it in such different ways, and now, now he doesn't know anymore. He wanted to have this assurance of his own mortality, something to prove to him that all of these last months were some nightmare and he was right, because... he was supposed to go first, didn't he? He couldn't just bear it, this new idea that the universe wanted to shove down on his throat.
"This... fucking... hell!", he throw a fist against the vending machine outside the hospital, but still the fucking chocolate didn't even flinch and he felt a weird heat across his face, but his new wave of outrage was stopped by some footsteps on the sidewalk, and there was Rony Weasley with his classic sweater.
"That's fine, mate, wait a bit...", he said in a simple tone and just leaned on the machine and with some trick, took the chocolate and handed it to Draco in a shy manner. "Professor Lupin used to say that it helps to get better, I mean, the- the chocolate, you know?"
His tone was cautious and plain as the same of everybody that tried to speak with Draco in the last week, but he kinda understood Weasley's reasons and just took the candy and nodded in a thankful gesture. All he could think beside Hermione was that Lupin was one of the victims of the war, but he wouldn't ruin the whole thing by telling this to Rony, so he just started to eat the chocolate and looked down to his own shoes.
"Uh, she is asleep, by the way...", Rony said as he took a soda from one of the machines and walked a bit close to Draco, leaning on the wall and fixing his gaze on the parking lot.
"Okay", Draco said. "Thanks, Weasley."
Rony gave him a nod and kept drinking. Like the others, he found some coping mechanism, that was drinking all of the soda in the hospital, which was less worse than Harry, who was smoking more than ever last week.
This was truly a nightmare, a goddamn nightmare, Draco threw the wrap on the trash and swallowed discreetly, putting his hands on his pockets and burying his head on the scarf. It was late November and the temperature didn't seem take a break from going down and down.
By his calculus, it all started in February or something like that. All of his memories were starting to get blurry at that point, drawn away with the smoke from Potter cig or the back and forth at the hospital wing.
And as soon as he could get it, there it went almost all of the year beneath his fingers...
However, he would do anything to keep his grip to catch over Hermione. He had to.
[...]
Besides his bad memory and some moments of oblivion, at least he could remember how everything started: it was a simple cough, probably some muggle disease that would pass with the days, then, Hermione followed the doctor's orders and rested and waited. The days passed and she didn't get any better; she was pale at that point, with dark circles around her eyes due the sleepless nights and, all of sudden, she started to cough with blood. A lot of blood.
"What the fuck is this?", Draco asked to the nurses on the day he dragged her to the hospital with a uncommon fever and the sleeves of her sweater spotted with blood. "Could you tell me what's happening with my wife?? She was... she was fine! She was---"
That same night someone appeared to help him at the ER, he couldn't remember exactly who it was due the medication that the nurse gave him to calm his nerves. It was probably Potter or Weasley. He couldn't recall the moment that he told another person about Hermione's sudden sickness, but he knew that they appeared.
And they stayed. Even with all the smoking and casual breakdowns outside the hospital room, Potter has been a great help to Draco and an unexpected friendship on the new turmoil of his life, and Weasley... well, he was like a fucking boat on the middle of a storm, nothing could take away that from him.
"Well...", Draco was with her on the hospital bed, holding her hand with care and stroking her pale skin, when one of the doctors came in with the results of the exams. "We believe that Mrs. Granger is suffering from some kind of an autoimmune disease, her body is attacking the wrong cells by confusing them with some bad kind. That's why the sudden deterioration of her state."
"And... and it has some cure?", Draco asked while he kept holding her hand and Hermione fasten her grip as the doctor said:
"Uh, it can slow down but... I'm afraid that it doesn't have a cure, Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry", he adjusted his glasses and looked down at his papers again. "All we can do it's to improve her health a bit."
Hermione sighed and looked at him, she seemed calm like Weasley as he said that, but Draco felt like a bursting volcano.
"All we can do?? You just shove down medicine on her all this time for nothing?!", he snapped to the doctor and exhaled deeply as he felt Hermione's grip around his wrist.
"I'm sorry", that's all the doctor could say as he shook his head and opened the door to walk away. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Malfoy."
Then, he left, and Draco kept walking back and forth on the hospital room like a encaged tiger and Hermione said:
"Darling, please...", he couldn't stop, if he did, he knew that it'd be a disaster. "Draco..."
He looked away from her and leaned close to the window as he took his breath and tried hard to not cry in front of her.
"Draco, look at me", she said in that classical Granger tone of voice, that even with the sick taking her lungs were not gone. "Please."
He turned on her direction, his eyes are filled with tears and his cheeks were flushed in a red tone, she tilted her head as she noticed his expression and whispered:
"I'm okay with whatever come to me, I swear to you", she opened a little smile. "I'm fine."
"No...", he shook his head. "You can't just---"
"Darling, please", she stopped him and extended her hand with caution to him, and Draco walked close slowly and took it. "I'm afraid that we both would have to leave behind some beliefs for now, so that's what I'm trying to do here and... and you should try it."
He knew that this conversation would come up at some point, but he didn't want to now.
"I... I can't", he said with a trembling voice and shook his head again. "You can't ask me to do this, this... this bullshit. I can't just accept that you'll drawn like this!"
"Oh, Draco...", she stroked his hand and looked at him. "I know that's hard, but... try it. For me."
He exhaled deeply as he looked away and bite his bottom lip enough to feel a slight blood taste, then, he turned his gaze to her and said:
"Alright, then...", he smiled. "I'll try. For you."
And that's what he's been doing in the last months since she had her diagnosis on March, with some back and forths to the hospital room or the ER along this and a lot of hidden curses and cries from Draco, but still, he was trying like he told her.
[...]
They got married in August, in a quiet and cozy day on the garden of their house in the surroundings of London, and until this day, Draco still carrying around on his wallet the picture that someone took from him and Hermione on their wedding clothes - it was a muggle picture, so it didn't move, but Draco found this little detail amusing due the way whose frame recapture the moment into one flash, and still could hold the same emotions on it; Hermione seemed bright like the sun on that day, wearing a white gown and holding the bouquet as she smiled widely and he was with one of his best suits and a green tie that made Harry raised an eyebrow as he was wearing a red one. Ah, good old days...
"And there you go...", said Draco in a playful tone as he used his wand to conjure some Primrose flowers on Hermione's hair. "Do you know want they mean?", he whispered and she opened that clever smile, saying:
"I can't live without you", she whispered back at him and rested their foreheads together.
"Yeah...", he said. "That's right, love."
And for the honeymoon, they went to a beach house close to the Seven Sisters Cliffs and spent a week there, walking around the pale sand spotted by some tall grass beneath the rocks and feeling the salty air on their faces as they improvised a waltz on the beach and Hermione's laugh echoed while he spin her on his arms and they fell on the sand.
"I think I lost that youthful step...", he laughed as he said that and lay down on the sand by her side and tried to catch his breath. "Maybe I broke a part of my ribcage."
"You think...?", she chuckled.
"Perhaps, and...", he looked at her and placed a hand carefully on hers and smiled. "This joins the amount of times that you've been breaking my heart these years, Mrs. Granger."
"Oh, did I?", her lips traced a playful smile. "I thought we both did that to each other."
"Before the war? Yes..."
"Exactly", she said. "And during it too."
"Well...", he breathed deeply and opened a little smile. "Now we have time enough to mend each other's, huh?"
Her eyes widened with a glimpse of something that Draco couldn't read by her expression.
"Yeah, we have time now...", she played with his hand upon hers and intertwined their fingers. "But still, I wish I could slow down sometimes..."
"Me too", he said. "But, for now I can do just one thing..."
"What?"
He tilted his head as she questioned it and opened a mischievous smile as he kissed a spot beneath her ear and leaned on her.
"Draco!", she said between the laughs and he couldn't resist opening a little smile as he climbed over her body and kissed her lips gently. They were covered in sand and a bit of salt on their skins, and she leaned close to him and kissed him back.
And, in the aftermath of the wedding, they lived a simple domestic life as her state seemed to be stable in those last weeks. He bought more books for her and they started to share their bookshelf, now with his advanced magic books mixed with some classic muggle english novels, and Hermione started to knit again as well, making some hoods and socks and Draco filled his closet with them.
Even Crookshanks got a knitted coat.
"Merlin, he looks like a coated pumpkin!", said Draco while he bursted out laughing and Hermione couldn't resist to laugh a bit too and the cat stares at them with a killer gaze.
And, beneath all of this, there was the quiet nights with some music playing on the background while they danced around the living room or when they just sit together on the couch and watched TV - there was some muggle entertainment that Draco tried to copy with - and Hermione laughed of these shows, one of the things he most enjoyed on this nights: hear the sound of her laughter.
So, it's was like being hit by a wave when Hermione got sick again on the end of October and it all seemed like a huge flashback for both of them while he drove around at midnight on the closest ER with Hermione burning in fever on the passenger side with her head against the window. He held her trembling hand and squeeze it with careful, whispering:
"It'll be okay", he gave her a quick look while driving. "I swear that you'll be fine again. I promise you."
[...]
But, despite his words, he felt in a freefall again, - with the desperate cries and curses against the universe or anything above them - luckily, their friends were around again to keep them both sane enough. The weird bond between Draco and Harry as they took shifts in the hospital room increased and now they could share a word or two while Potter was smoking outside on the sidewalk, with the other one keeping his hands on his pockets and hiding on his hood.
"She'll have to do that bloody surgery, right?", asked Harry during one of these conversations and Draco discreetly nodded with his head. "Did you know if there's a donor?"
"Yeah, they found someone", he said as he kept his gaze focused on the ground. "The doctor said that they need to fix this damaged part of her lung somehow, so it's better if they do a transplant soon."
Harry gave him a slight nod and came back to his cigarette, fixing his glasses quickly.
"But", Draco felt the words leaving his lips before he could stop himself from it. "She said that she's at peace with whatever happens next... she--- she told me in the beginning."
"Really...?"
Draco nodded slowly with his head and took a deep breath.
"And... how about you?", Harry asked. "You're okay with it too?"
"Uh, I... I don't know", he shrugged his shoulders and looked down. "I'm trying to be as I said to her. I have to."
So, she did the surgery on the beginning of November and went straight to the ICU to have a proper treatment after the lung transplant; part of the time she was mainly unconscious, so he would just sit close to the hospital bed and hold her hand - beneath all of these tubes and cannulas - and watch her, and at the moments she could emerge from the anesthesia, he would drown himself on her beautiful and bright chestnut eyes and whisper things to her like:
"Crookshanks has been missing you", she would open a faint smile. "He was at your office this morning before I came here and I got some scratches from taking him out."
She was doing good, despite all of the possible complications that the transplant could bring, and the doctors were optimistic about her current state; sometimes there was some little fever that scared everyone out, but she was fine and was starting to get more conscious after so much time being anesthetized.
"Okay, be careful... you're doing good, love", Draco whispered in her ear while they walked slowly on the hospital corridor; she was holding his two hands and with a little smile as she gave her first steps after two weeks at the ICU. "Alright, slow down... there you go..."
She was in the usual blue hospital gown and using a cannula, but above all, Draco helped her to wear a sweater sent by Molly Weasley.
"You're finally wearing the one that she sent you last Christmas!", Hermione noticed as soon as they walked towards the corridor and he laughed a bit. At first, he didn't understand the traditions of the family around parties like that or something like that, and the sweater made him scratch his skin all over at the beginning, but now he could handle it.
"Yes, I did", he answered and looked down at her with a shy smile. "You like it?"
"Very much", she chuckled, making her little dimples appear as she did it and Draco discreetly sobbed - she was so bright again and so... so alive - and he felt hope again, that old flicker inside him.
Then, they were all hit by another wave. She had a slight breakdown in her state in the last week of November after a huge fever that led her to a seizure, so the doctors sent her back to the ICU just for prevention, and now Weasley was taking shifts with Draco to watch over her.
After taking the chocolate on the vending machine, with this being his first meal in hours, Draco came back to her room on the ICU and stopped close to the flower vase that Ginny sent her and changed the already dead flowers, conjuring new ones, and as always it were Primroses. I can't live without you, he thought as he made the spell and hid his wand again between his coat.
"Draco?", he heard her distant voice and looked over to the bed and reached for her.
"I'm here, love", he caught her hand and kissed her fingers. "I'm right here."
She looked up at him and smiled.
"How are you feeling?", Draco asked.
"I'm fine", she replied. "Really fine. That was probably just a little fright, huh?"
"Yeah...", he laughed a bit with her. "I hope."
Then, she stayed in silence for a while looking up to the ceiling and holding his hand. Since she got sick, there were this moments where she just crawled into herself and stood out for a bit, out of touch from anyone, like it was almost sacred for her to do it and Draco respected it solemnly.
When she finally broke the silence, he was so absorbed by the moment that her voice - now getting again the same youthful tone - had caught him with surprise.
"Would you do something for me?", she asked with that same mischievous smile that he missed loudly.
"What it is?"
She looked up again and chuckled.
"I know that it's a bit impossible since I'm all covered in tubes and cannulas, but...", she turned her gaze to him again. "I wanted to see the stars."
He raised an eyebrow and opened a little smile as she said that.
"Hmm, I think we can figure it out", he answered and looked down, and she opened a surprised smile, saying:
"Really...?", she replied in a quick tone and he gave her an assuring nod.
"Let's do it, Granger", he looked back at her hoping that she'll get it, and just by the little smile that spread across her face, he knew that she caught it. During their 8th year in Hogwarts that was almost a tagline for them, when they walked towards the castle grounds and laughed and whispered to each other in the private sector of the library, hiding their kisses beneath the books.
She laughed a bit and answered:
"Let's do it, Malfoy."
[...]
He wasn't a proper doctor or something like that, but he spent enough time between ER and hospital wings to learn how to manage all the muggle instruments and put Hermione with her cannula on a wheelchair.
"Did I hurt you?", he asked in a cautious tone as he leaned her on the chair and Hermione flinched a bit.
"No, it's nothing", she said. "It's just these little spasms I have from time to time."
He nodded and opened a relived smile as he guided her wheelchair down the corridor with careful to not be caught by the nurses. They were giggling and whispering like the two teenagers they used to be in Hogwarts, that even with the war fresh on their minds, found some way to laugh again.
He used the elevator with a bit of struggle - even with the routine at the hospital he couldn't use this things properly - and Hermione helped him out, so they could reach the rooftop with less exposure for her.
"Alright...", he stopped her wheelchair and opened a little smile noticing the madness they were in. "Here we are."
The cold air of the night came like a fresh breath on their faces and Hermione closed her eyes with a faint smile, appearing to be in such a peaceful spot of mind now. Draco took his scarf out and wrapped it on her neck softly, leaning to kiss her cheek too.
"So...", he started. "You're happy?"
"More than ever...", she reached for his hand and he kneel on the floor by her side, following her gaze and looking up to the sky.
At first he could only pick at the darkness, twisted, dull and bigger than they, but them, Hermione extended her hand with careful to a point and whispered:
"Look, darling! Can you see it?", he followed the point and could see little dots of light. He nodded with his head and grabbed her hand beneath his and kissed them.
"Yeah", he whispered. "Now I can."