She studied it quietly for several minutes. “The legilimency strained your optic nerves, that's why your eyes aren't working. It's not permanent. You just need to rest so it can heal. Your — your nerve damage from the torture is—” her jaw trembled, and she swallowed. “He really shouldn't keep torturing you.”
Draco snorted and started to reply, but his entire body spasmed. He didn't make a sound but pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white.
There was a pop and Bobbin appeared, surrounded by potions and medical supplies.
Hermione looked up at the elf. “Can you levitate him onto the bed for me? He's too heavy for me to lift. And take his clothes off, his robes are filthy.”
“Bobbin can.” The elf snapped her fingers and floated Draco carefully over towards the bed.
Hermione went over and started sorting through all the supplies. They were all labeled, many of them in a sharp, spiky script she knew had been Severus'.
She selected four potions and went back to Draco. Bobbin had removed his clothes, cleaned Draco's face, and tucked him into the bed.
Hermione leaned over him, studying his eyes and taking note of all the physical symptoms she could detect. He was ghastly pale, and his chest kept hitching as he tried to breathe in a way that wasn't painful. She rested a hand against his forehead.
“You should have had a pain relief potion with you,” she said after a moment. “You were the one who told me not to apparate after legilimency without taking a pain relief potion first. You always had one for me.”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
She looked down and unstoppered one of the vials she'd brought over, pressing it into his hand. He downed it with a grimace.
She handed him the next potion. “I should have included one in your healing kit. I ran out of space. I should have put in a pain potion instead of Murtlap Essence.”
Draco blinked and she could tell he was trying to force his eyes to focus on her as she handed him the third potion.
She picked up his empty hand and pressed it against her cheek. “You already know what I look like, rest your eyes. Your head will hurt less if you keep them closed.”
He obstinately narrowed them, trying to make out her face for a moment longer before obeying.
She watched as some of the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth slowly faded and his breathing gradually evened.
When she was sure the potions had taken effect, she moved on. “Who's your healer? Who treats you after he tortures you? You need to call them. You're not going to be able to move for weeks without treatment.”
Draco's face remained neutral, but his fingers twitched. Hermione felt her chest tighten after he failed to answer for several seconds.
“Draco—”
“I deal with it myself unless it's life-threatening,” he finally said, the words were so low they were almost under his breath. He didn't open his eyes. “Severus used to help occasionally — when it was something I didn't know how to heal — but otherwise — it's my job.”
Hermione stared at him in horror. Draco cracked an eye open and squinted at her before snorting.
He raised one eyebrow and closed his eyes again, his expression tightening. “You may recall you once put a rather rare stone into my heart. It may not show in diagnostics, but I have to avoid healers as much as I can. If the Dark Lord began receiving repeated reports that I'm physically pristine despite having had Dark Runes carved into my back for three years, he'd have more than a few questions. I'd probably end up with my heart cut out. When it's something life-threatening, I call a healer and obliviate them afterwards, but half the healers in England would be addled at this point if I called and obliviated one every time I was crucio'd.”
Hermione felt as though he'd gutted her. “I didn't — I didn't realise.”
“It's fine, Granger.” He didn't open his eyes but still waved her off with his free hand. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I've been told several times now that I have a natural talent for healing.”
Her jaw kept trembling, and she ground her teeth together for a moment before she slipped his wand into his fingers. “Can — can you do the spell for me then?”
He muttered the spells while she guided his fingers, tapping across the pressure points of his right hand and up his forearm. His fingers spasmed repeatedly as she helped him send the mild vibrations into the drawn muscles, easing the tension.
His fingers finally fell open after several minutes, and she lay his wand aside. She picked up his right hand and began trying to fix all the damage. Her fingers began cramping, and she ignored it and kept working until his hand stopped twitching and would lay still.