Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black Chapter 57 57

Novel: Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black Author: larsen051 Updated: Jun 17, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 57 57 from Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black, a Drama novel by larsen051.

From that day on, I had to work even harder. I now understood that Voldemort was not the only threat to my future. While his Horcruxes ant he was at least an enemy I could try to fight, there was also a phenonon entirely beyond our control to contend with. That realization forced to push my training harder.

Not that I had ever been less than diligent, but until then, I had tried not to lean too heavily on potions. Now I went directly to my mothers and asked them to buy a full supply for the rest of the sumr, potions that would let absorb theory dozens of tis faster. Since I wasn't a complete novice at Legilincy (or rather, in working with my own mind), the results ought to be excellent. According to Narcissa, though, by September first I'd be a vegetable.

Not that I'd lose my mind, but life would feel gray and deeply uncomfortable. I would have to make a constant effort not to fall asleep the mont I sat still. But that didn't stop . I simply promised to spend the last few days before Hogwarts sleeping. Until then...

Seeing how hard I was now pushing myself, all my companions began working considerably harder as well. I had intended to stick to this schedule without exception, but a single letter made reconsider.

"Who's the letter from?"

"From Hermione."

I was already frowning at it. The handwriting clearly wasn't my acquaintance's. That wasn't a reason not to read it, though. It had passed every check, even the most paranoid ones. So I opened the letter and stared in surprise at the opening lines.

Dear Draco Black, this is Jean Granger, mother of your friend Hermione. I know your previous dealings with our family were not pleasant, and that my husband made certain remarks, but I hope what he said did not affect your friendship with my daughter.

That opening already didn't sit well with . I set the letter down for a mont, drew a slow breath, and let it out.

"Sothing serious?" Penny asked, watching carefully.

"Yes. Because it's not Hermione writing. It's her mother."

With that, I returned to the letter.

"I understand that receiving a letter from probably makes you think sothing terrible has happened. You would be right. I wouldn't have written to you if I weren't desperate. The truth is, this sumr we were vacationing in France. While we were there, the beach we were staying at was attacked by strange creatures. We had to run, but..."

At this point, several teardrops had clearly fallen onto the page.

"...they caught up with us. My husband shielded us with his own body, losing his arm and an eye, and he was left with terrible scarring all over his body. He is in a coma. And my daughter..."

More tears fell.

"...she had, as a magical police officer who arrived later explained to , a wild surge of accidental magic, which destroyed the creatures, but she herself is now on the border between life and death. She needs to be in a place saturated with magic, sowhere her body can absorb it and replenish what she spent. Otherwise she may beco... I didn't catch the word exactly, but I was told it's a very unpleasant condition, sothing like a dark parasite, and it tends to appear in those who suppress their magic."

"Damn."

I sighed.

"What's happened?" Penny Clearwater asked.

"The beach where Hermione was vacationing with her family was attacked as well. She had a wild surge of accidental magic, and now, due to magical depletion, she's at risk of becoming an Obscurial. I don't entirely understand the chanism. Becoming an Obscurial usually requires quite different circumstances, but..."

I shook my head.

"I am begging you, please save my daughter. If I lose her too, I will have nothing left to live for. I am ready to do anything. If you want, I will beco your slave, your whore, available to any man you point to. I will beco a killer and cut down every enemy you have. Anything. I will give you all our money, our ho, even my life and soul. JUST SAVE MY DAUGHTER!!!"

"God, Jean is desperate."

"May I?" Penny Clearwater asked.

"One mont."

I read quickly to the end of the letter. Seeing that Hermione and her father were in an ordinary French hospital, I produced a Patronus. Mine was coming together beautifully now.

"Tell my Master that lessons are canceled today. I need to help Hermione. She's ended up in the hospital with a very serious injury."

The blue fox with several tails looked at with calm dignity, gave a asured nod, and disappeared toward the other wing of the house. I got to my feet, handed the letter to Penny, and went to my room. Only when I felt the first Patronus dissolve did I produce another, this one sent to Mother Narcissa, asking her to co to the hospital urgently.

Dressed in simple clothes that nonetheless announced themselves as bespoke at a glance, I stepped out of the house, walked to the road, and flicked my wand. A mont later, the French equivalent of the Knight Bus pulled up beside . I gave the destination, tossed a triple fare to the conductor to make it clear I was in a considerable hurry, and was assured I would arrive before I could say the hospital's na twice. They exaggerated sowhat. It took ten minutes. My mother was already standing outside the hospital, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Draco?"

"Co on, read this on the way."

I had retrieved the letter from Penny before leaving, and now my mother read it as we walked. I watched her face change. Her expression was tight with fury at the opening lines, and then filled with sothing close to respect by the ti she reached the end.

"We're here to visit Hermione Jean Granger."

"One mont."

The woman behind the reception desk, sowhere in her early forties, began checking paperwork, made one phone call, and then looked up at us with a mildly contemptuous expression.

"That's not permitted."

"Then please call her mother, Jean Granger, to co and speak to us."

"I am not a directory service or a..."

Sothing unpleasant crept into her tone.

"Very well."

I nodded very slowly.

"If you would prefer not to do this amicably, I will contact the consulate with an allegation that you are holding citizens of another country against their will. Perhaps you have even harvested their organs."

I knew perfectly well that was not the case. The letter had been dated today and written this morning, which ant Hermione and Jean should be all right, but the threat hit ho. The woman went pale and began to tremble.

"I... I... I... One mont..."

She snatched up the phone and made call after call, then looked back at with genuine fear.

"Jean Granger left the hospital this morning and hasn't returned yet. But we can take you to her daughter's room and her husband's room."

"Please."

I gave the faintest smile.

"And kindly ask the doctor managing their care to et us there as well."

"I..."

"I'm not asking. I'm telling you it needs to be done. Otherwise, I'll take legal action, and believe ..."

I drew a very expensive watch from my inner pocket, a tasteless piece, frankly, but one that serves its purpose in situations like this, when one needs to put people in their place and demonstrate status to those who can't read a bespoke suit.

"...if their doctor or doctors aren't in that room within thirty minutes, and I'm giving them that long only out of respect for the profession, I'll be forced to act. I'm certain my mother will support whatever decision I make."

"Of course, sweetheart."

My mother nodded, looking at the woman the way one looks at sothing unpleasant on the sole of one's shoe.

"Third floor. Right wing. Room three-twelve. The stairs are there."

The woman was frightened. She'd encountered wealthy young n before and understood that if we had money, and my watch made it clear we did, we could make life very difficult for her specifically. It was obvious to all of us that the hospital itself wouldn't suffer greatly. The director would simply shift the bla onto her.

Within a few minutes, we were in the room. I looked first at Hermione, pale and still in the hospital bed, and then at her father.

"Mum, do what you need to. I'll stand outside and make sure no one cos in."

"Understood."

Narcissa nodded and drew her wand. I stepped out into the corridor and watched the patients and nurses passing by.

"Excuse , who are..."

"A family friend. My mother's a Healer, and since we're all citizens of another country, she's conducting an assessnt to determine whether Hermione and her father are fit to be transported."

"Ah... but visiting hours..."

I looked at the nurse with calm, unhurried patience that told her exactly where she stood.

... "I'm sorry," she said, very quietly.

"Not at all. I would simply advise against speaking on matters you don't fully understand. I'm a pretty good-natured person, but if soone else from my... circle... were standing here, they'd have dismissed you for a single unfriendly glance."

"I'm sorry!"

And she vanished. I returned to my position beside the door, which opened ten minutes later to admit my mother.

"Well?"

I stepped back inside.

"Hermione's situation is not as bad as it looked. The person who examined her was an Auror, not a Healer, so she was assessed incorrectly. In general, she should recover on her own by September. Her father is more complicated. The arm and eye cannot be restored, the scars will remain, and they will cause him considerable pain for another year or two. But bringing him back to consciousness should be straightforward."

I nodded in understanding. At that mont Hermione's mother burst through the door, followed closely by the doctors. Jean's expression shifted the mont she saw , from fear to overwhelming, trembling hope, while the doctors had a lot to say.

"What do you think you are doing? We will not stand for this..."

"Mother, can they be transported?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Excellent. Please prepare the patients for transport. A dical team will arrive tomorrow at the sa ti. Jean, all other questions can wait. I will send a solicitor. He will help with the paperwork. I will cover the dical expenses."

"Thank you."

Tears began to run down the woman's face. The doctors looked uncertain about how to proceed. I took out the watch once more, glanced at it, and put it away.

"As for you, we are grateful for keeping my friend and her father alive. Your work will be well compensated."

"Then why were we called in here at all?"

The older doctor silenced his younger colleague with a light cuff to the back of his head.

"I had heard stories about how visitors from other countries are sotis treated in hospitals here. I preferred to err on the side of caution. Fortunately, my concerns proved unfounded, so I offer you my sincere apologies for interrupting your work."

"Think nothing of it, young man... impulsiveness is the prerogative of youth."

The older doctor nodded.

"As for..."

"Jean, everything else can wait. Your husband's health and your daughter's health co first; then we can talk. All right?"

"Yes... thank you... thank you... thank you..."

"Don't worry."

My mother went to Jean, put a gentle arm around her, and Jean clung to her, beginning to sob.

I caught the doctors' eyes, and we stepped out of the room together.

"Is there anything you need?"

The younger doctor looked at with mild hostility, while the older one gave a heavy sigh.

"Funding... our hospital's funding isn't bad, but there have been more and more patients like your friend's father lately, and soon we won't have enough supplies."

I frowned. I wanted to help, and practically, it wasn't beyond , but it would be a drop in the bucket.

"I'll speak with my lawyer. I think my family could make a charitable contribution to ensure your hospital can acquire what it needs. But..."

"Strict oversight?"

"Yes. I am not so naive as to think those in power won't try to pocket the money, so the oversight will be rigorous, and the reporting will be..."

I looked at the doctor.

"You know what, never mind the details. The important thing is that there are enough supplies. Sothing tells this is far from over."

"Who can say?"

I shook my head thoughtfully.

Who can say? If I were in your shoes, I'd buy a handgun and start going to the range. Carrying a weapon could prove very useful soon.

"Do you know sothing?"

The older doctor looked at closely.

"A little more than most. But not enough to draw firm conclusions. All the sa, carrying a weapon will probably be useful."