There was a tray of food on a small table beside them. Draco sat up and speared a burnt sausage with a fork and began nibbling at it while Hermione was rapidly casting diagnostic spells on him. She checked his heart and other vital signs. She examined his blood readings. She cast a complex diagnostic on his left arm and carefully inspected every vein, artery, and major nerve. She spent several minutes siphoning away accumulating fluid.
She reached out and grasped the strap of her satchel, dragging it over before she remembered she could use summoning spells. She rummaged through its contents until she found all the potions she needed.
She unstoppered and held a potion out towards him. “This is antivenin that counteracts the blood thinning. I hope it's not a long-term effect, but in case, you should take this every twelve hours.” While he was swallowing it, she looked out the window, staring at the empty field.
Her head was throbbing, and her stomach was beginning to twist and knot itself until she thought she might be sick. She tore her eyes away from the window and pulled a sling out of the satchel. She laid it onto her lap and carefully applied a variety of cushioning charms before turning to Draco who had given up on the sausage.
She slipped his cloak and robes off both shoulders and helped him put on the sling, anchoring it safely and securely against his torso.
“I'm going to make you a prosthetic,” she said in a bright voice as she buckled one of the clasps. “I have some ideas already. I did a little bit of research before. Since it's your arm and hand, I thought — maybe wand core in the forearm — you'd be able cast wandless magic with it, if I can figure it out.”
She quickly pulled out several vials of pain relief and unstoppered one for Draco. While he took it, she looked out the window again.
“You should eat,” he said. “One of the sausages is not entirely charred. There are also — peas, I believe.”
Hermione shook her head without looking away from the window. “I'm really not hungry.”
She took an empty vial from him and unstoppered the next potion to hand over before peering out the window again. There were meadows of wild grass dotted with wildflowers as far as she could see. The wand handle was smooth and warm under her fingertips.
She gripped it until the wood bit into the bones in her hand.
“Granger, are you alright?”
She looked over sharply. “Of course. I'm fine. I'm just not hungry.”
She turned back to the window, shifting herself to the foot of the bed and pushing the curtains aside so she could see their surroundings more clearly.
There was a long, heavy silence that she ignored until she felt she might break under it. She turned and found Draco staring at her intently.
She licked her lips and drew her wand closer. “What — what kind of protection does this safe house have? I haven't — I haven't dueled since I was captured — I should—” her chest was starting to tighten painfully. “I should have practiced. I didn't think about—”
She drew a stuttering breath and looked away again. Her vision was beginning to swim, and her heart was pounding painfully against her ribs.
She needed to stay calm. Occlude everything and focus. She had a job. How she felt didn't matter. She had a job.
“Granger,” Draco reached out and rested his hand on her wand, “the safe house is secure, and there's a portkey there on the wall.” He gestured towards the brass key. “If we touch it, we'll travel halfway around the world. You don't need to worry.”
Her throat tightened, and her heart started racing. “What if someone finds us, Draco? What if it didn't work, and they're already looking for you, but we don't know? I promised I'd take care of you. You're hurt — you were already hurt and I cut off your arm—” her voice fractured, and she gripped her wand more tightly. “What if someone finds us? It's going to fall apart. It always — falls apart.”
She started breathing rapidly and pressed her hand against her sternum, still gripping the wand tightly.
She couldn't panic.
She couldn't panic. She needed to — there were protective wards she should add. She couldn't use any Dark Magic, it could hurt the baby.
But if someone came, and she had to choose—
Her lungs started burning.
“Hermione — Hermione, you have to breathe.” Draco had moved down the bed and was beside her, firmly pulling her wand out of her hand. Having the wand taken away made her feel hysterical. She grasped at it.
“Don't — don't take it from me!” She felt as though she were being strangled.
He set it on the table where it was still within her reach and pressed his hand against her face, coaxing her to look at him. He gently pulled her closer until her forehead rested against his while she kept gasping and struggling to breathe.
“Come on, you've made it so far, don't panic. Protecting me is not your job. The safe house has protective spells, and we won't be here long. I'm not an entirely abysmal duelist with my right hand.”
She forced herself to take a deep breath.