Hermione nodded and wiped her face, finding that she was crying blood. She watched as Malfoy strode over, levitated his wife up off the floor and dropped her into the chair before performing a diagnostic charm on her. The imbalance in Hermione's vision made it hard to see when she tried to see the reading across the room. She thought Astoria had several cracked ribs and a concussion.
Malfoy healed the fractures with practiced ease and then stared down at Astoria for several minutes before finally rennervating her.
Chapter End Notes
Special thanks to LightOfEvolution for consulting and advising me about the Latin for healing spells.
Malfoy always comes for me by _knar.m_.
Malfoy disembowelling Montague by enselius.
'Open your eyes wide, Mudblood' by kport.art.
Astoria's Attack by saharok_illustration.
"Draco, how are you here?" Astoria gasped as soon as she regained consciousness. She reached over and touched her side gingerly as she shrank back in the chair.
"I had to apparate across Europe because of you," he said in a low snarl.
The rage in his voice was palpable.
Hermione stared. Cross-continental apparition was — almost impossible. It required either jumping so many times that a person exhausted their magic and had to stop, or such a tremendous amount of concentration that it was practically impossible to survive. Most people who jumped more than a few countries splinched themselves to death. If Malfoy had actually apparated so far, he should be nearly dead from magical exhaustion.
In that case, it was no wonder the manor had shaken. The power and concentration to successfully perform such a jump would explode like a shockwave from a sonic boom. There was probably a room in the manor that had been reduced to splinters.
"That — that's completely impossible," Astoria stuttered.
"Underestimating your husband, Tori?" he said in a coolly murderous tone. "Not very wifely of you."
"Oh, are you here because of me?" Astoria's voice was vicious. "No. You aren't. You're here because of that Mudblood. You hexed me. You threw me into a wall. You
"Yes, I did," Malfoy said. "I did all of those things because she is the last member of the Order of the Phoenix, and that means she, unlike you, is important; infinitely more important than you are. Considerably more important than Montague. Did you know that the Dark Lord has her brought before him regularly to inspect her memories? The eyes are rather useful when performing legilimency."
Astoria paled and Malfoy continued speaking in his cold, deadly voice, "I have tried to be patient with you, Astoria. I've been willing to overlook your indecent behavior and petty interferences, but do recall that aside from being somewhat decorative, you are useless to me. If you ever go near her again, or speak to her, or use your status as the lady of this manor to break through any of my wards, I will kill you. And I will do it slowly; perhaps over the course of an evening or two. That isn't a threat. It is a promise. Get. Out. Of. My. Sight."
Astoria gave a terrified sob and fled the room.
Malfoy stood breathing deeply for several seconds before he turned back to Hermione.
He approached her slowly, then knelt and tilted her face up to look at her eyes again.
"The pupils are different sizes," he said after a moment. "After I've applied the Essence of Dittany, I'll send for a specialist to come and see if there's anything else to be done."
Hermione stared at him.
"You don't need my eyes to perform legilimency," she said in a wooden voice. "It's just easier that way. It won't matter if I'm blind in one eye."
She felt the fingers on her face flinch faintly and his jaw clenched.
"I consider it a matter of convenience," he said after a beat.
His thumb ghosted lightly across her cheekbone as he continued to study her.
She stared back at him. He looked haggard but maybe it only seemed that way because of how her vision blurred.
"How did you apparate from Romania?" she asked.
He gave a tired smirk. "The ability came compliments of the Dark Lord. Although — I don't believe he had any idea at the time. It was intended as a punishment."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. She had no idea what kind of punishment could possibly have the side-effect of enabling cross-continental apparition. Some kind of horribly obscure Dark magic.
"What kind of curse—?"
"It wasn't a curse, it was a ritual, and not one I feel like discussing," he said, cutting her off abruptly.
"How did you know I'd know the spells?" she said when he kept staring at her.
"You were a healer." He shrugged. "If I'd apparated you to St Mungo's, I assumed the pressure would have wrecked your eye. Time was essential."
"Where did you learn to heal?" she asked, thinking back on all the spells and diagnostics he'd known immediately.
A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.