Disclaimer: HP is not mine.

Blaise

I paced frantically outside Draco's hospital room. It had been hours since he'd been allocated to the emergency operating room at St. Mungo's. Hoards of healers had been rushing in and out with panicked looks on their faces, and no one would tell me what was going on!

This is all my fault. How could I have gotten so caught up in my own life that I hadn't realized my friend was drowning?

Hermione

He looked so pale. And thin. Draco Malfoy had always been pale and slim in his days at school, but he had never been like this—parched and pale skin clinging to his bony frame like tissue paper, cheeks sunken and bloodless, his life dripping out from a slit wrist.

What had happened to the arrogant boy who believed in blood supremacy? What had happened to the sneering boy whose favourite line was, "My father will hear about this"? Most importantly, why had he decided to kill himself?

If I had any doubts about doing this before, they disappeared now.

"What kind of treatment have you given him?" I asked the Healer currently in charge of him.

The young woman grimaced. "Everything I could think of. He can't drink at this state, but I tried spelling blood replenishing and various healing potions into his stomach. However, he somehow immediately vomits everything out the second I do so. It's not just potions either. His body keeps rejecting every single type of treatment we've administered to him, and he can't keep down anything we give him, solid or liquid. We checked the blade he used on himself, and it's cursed with a unique poison that prevents all his wounds from closing properly. If he had enough magical blood in his body right now, he should be able to fight the poison, but he doesn't because he's been bleeding out fairly quickly before being sent to us."

Okay. So basically, Malfoy was rejecting all magical healing...but what about Muggle medicine?

"What's his blood type?" I asked.

"O negative."

I froze. O negative? There was no way they could get enough of that type of blood in time. Except...I had O negative blood too...An idea formed in my head.

Malfoy better thank me graciously after this.

Healer

Hermione Granger looked up at me, her face set.

"I'm going to try a blood transfusion with him. Give me Blood Replenishing Potions every five minutes until Malfoy has enough blood in his system."

"You...you're going to link blood systems with him?" I stuttered.

"Yes."

"But...Miss Granger...this could be very dangerous! This...whatever poison he has, or whatever magic he has in his blood might travel to yours!"

"Well, time is running out, and I do think this is faster and safer for the both of us than risking infection by pouring my blood out into plastic bags and then pumping it into him. Besides, this is a guaranteed way of fighting the poison and sealing his wound."

"You're...going to slit your own wrist?" I was shocked to say the least.

"And join it with his." She nodded.

"At least let somebody else do it for you, I have a bad feeling about this." I pleaded. 

"Who else has O negative blood and is in close proximity right now? Malfoy is dying, and if you want me to save him, then we better act now. I'm doing it, and that's final. Now give me a knife."

I felt sick to the pit of my stomach, but I did what she said.

Hermione

I took the knife and sliced my wrist carefully. It stung and started leaking out blood, red and sticky and metallic. To my surprise, it felt good. The sting and the pain felt good, like a release of all the pent up emotions I've had inside of me. I stored that information for later. For now I had Malfoy to save.

I put my slit wrist on his and quickly muttered a disinfecting and sealing charm, waving my wand over the two cuts with my other hand. Slowly, the skin and the vessels joined together. I don't know how to explain it, but I physically felt Malfoy's blood entering my body. The blood that was supposed to be the same as my own. It felt cold and lethargic, moving along sluggishly in my veins. I felt myself weaken as more and more of my blood flowed into Malfoy's body.

A potions bottle was shoved into my hands. I drank the whole thing down in one gulp. I didn't feel any better. The potions kept coming. I don't know if they worked, but I could still feel myself getting weaker and weaker to the point where I could not drink the potion on my own anymore. They magicked it into my stomach for me. I felt nauseated, but I managed to keep it down. An hour after this, I couldn't do it anymore. I vomited all over my bedsheets, dry heaving like my life depended on it. I fought to say awake as more of my blood flowed away from me. Everything seemed so fuzzy and out of focus. 

"Stop! Cut their connection!" Someone yelled. 

I briefly wondered why they sounded so panicked, and if Malfoy was going to be okay. Would Harry and Ron and Ginny miss me if I died today? A part of me wanted to. To die, I mean. To join my parents, and Tonks and Remus and Dobby and Fred and Sirius. I missed them so much, and I'd lost a big part of me when I realized they were gone forever. Most of me was already gone with them, anyway. Not much was left. Not much at all.

I sighed.

A loud siren started screaming.

And then everything went black.

A/N: A longer chapter to thank my patient readers. Enjoy! Give me a vote if you like it, and feel free to tell me what you think in the comments!

P.S. Just to clarify. There is no way this could actually happen in real life, and don't attempt to slit your own wrist, okay? There are plenty of people who love you in the world, so don't take yourself away from these people who probably hurt as much as you do just by seeing you hurting. Nothing is worth taking your own life for, and if you have issues or problems, please deal with them in a better way. Talk it out with your parents or your friends or your teachers or even your school counsellors! Google a suicide help centre if you need to! Phone someone and just tell them how you feel! Just never take your own life, because nothing is worth doing that for.