Hermione scratched at the medical band wrapped around her wrist. She could feel the blood rise to the surface where she'd broken the scabs open, but she ignored it. It wouldn't matter soon anyway, because today she'd find out if she'd be going home. She'd been in St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward for months, surely they'd agree that she could be released.

She sighed and ran a frustrated hand through her messy locks and stared at the empty wall, chewing her lip nervously. She'd worked so hard. She'd done everything she was supposed to do. She participated in group, she was open and honest with her therapist, had worked on her coping skills, and her meds had finally started working.

Plus, she hadn't seen him since she'd been here.

Him. The reason why she was in this place to begin with.

It had started with something so small. A trick of light, a small shadow passing in her peripheral vision, nothing to get worked up over, so she hadn't - even when a flash of blonde hair passed the window of her flat, or the smell of cologne surrounded her desk chair at work. She'd just dismissed it all. She wasn't one to fall prey to paranoia, after all, a couple of oddities weren't enough to frighten her.

Maybe that's why he'd decided to finally show himself.

She was coming home from work late one night, slipping off her shoes at the door when she heard an annoyed sigh in the other room. Normally she'd have turned around and headed to Harry's house after calling the police, but she'd had enough of the weirdness. What she expected to see when she entered the living room, she didn't exactly know, but it definitely wasn't the figure of a man. She'd nearly fainted when he'd turned around and smirked at her.

For a moment she'd stood frozen, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. He hadn't spoken, just watched her in amusement as she blinked. For weeks she'd thought that her mind was playing games with her, but it was real. Her worst nightmare was staring her down in her own home.

Draco Malfoy.

She had run to Harry's then, shoeless and pale as a sheet. She didn't know what to tell him though, because as much as she knew her eyes weren't deceiving her, Draco had been dead for years. If she told Harry who it was in her house, he'd think she was crazy.

So she had lied.

She'd told him she thought someone had broken in. They'd called the authorities, but of course they'd found nothing. It was no surprise to her but she still let her best friends comfort her and asked them to spend the rest of the night with her. They fretted over her for a few more days and then everything went back to normal. At least for them. She still had to deal with the fact that she'd seen her supposedly dead tormentor with her own two eyes.

She'd been on constant alert, or what Dr. Clarke called hypervigilance, after that. She'd analyzed every sound in the night, so she barely slept. She'd watched her surroundings, so her work suffered. She'd slowly started slipping into a paranoid state. It may have gotten better over time and she may have moved on and resumed her life as usual, but nothing was ever that simple in Hermione Granger's life.

She'd started seeing him everywhere after that.

Across the street reading a newspaper, strolling through the park, in the fresh produce aisle at the store. He never said anything, simply smiled at her, but there was a threat behind it. His eyes were still just as sharp as she remembered and she knew exactly what that mouth could do.

At first she forced herself to ignore his presence, if she pretended he wasn't there, then maybe he would go away. That plan seemed to have been working just fine until the night it all fell apart.

She'd brought work home with her and had lost track of time. By they time she was done it was well past midnight. She'd put everything back in her messenger bag and stretched out her limbs, which were sore and achy after working for hours on end and locked up for the night. When she entered her bedroom though, something felt off. She stared into the darkness and tried to make out what exactly it was that felt wrong.

She'd received her answer when she was violently shoved forward. The door slammed behind her, cutting off any source of light. She'd panicked, fumbling around for the lamp at her bedside table, but cruel hands stopped her, pulling her away from the bed and into a firm body. It was the beginning of the end.

"Stayed up a little late tonight didn't you, Granger?" the familiar voice had her quaking in his grip as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. "I've been waiting."

"Ma-Malfoy?" it came out as a question but she already knew the answer.

"Who else would it be?" he asked, spinning her around to face him, "I'm the only one that wants you."

The words would have affected her more if she wasn't so terrified. It was just so impossible. "How-how are you here?"

"Let's not worry about the how's, just enjoy the moment," he replied and pressed his lips against hers. She let him. She didn't even fight. It was like she was back in that empty classroom again. Powerless. Hopeless. At his mercy.

Silent tears fell down her cheeks, but they did nothing to stop the hungry kisses that were now assaulting her. She remained frozen, letting him move her where he wanted her. She thought this was over. She thought she'd gotten over that ordeal. She thought she was safe. She should be safe. He was supposed to be dead. He'd died! But then...if he was dead, who was this? Who was this man that sounded and smelled so much like him, that looked just like him, that tasted just like him? Who was this man holding her, kissing her?

"God," he moaned, moving from her mouth to the skin of her neck, "I've wanted you for a long time, Granger."

A dream! Maybe this was a dream! Maybe she had fallen asleep at her desk. Yes! That was it. She was asleep so this was just a horrible nightmare. She needed to wake up.

"Wake up," she mumbled, clenching her fists in his shirt.

A sadistic laugh bubble up from his chest. "Oh, you poor darling" he laughed, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look at him. "I'm afraid this isn't a dream."

"Let me go," she whimpered, "please."

If anything his grip tightened. "Why would I do that?" he asked, voice calm. "I finally have you to myself." He ran a hand down her back and she fought the shiver that followed. "No one will come looking for you this time."

She closed her eyes and accepted her fate. There was no fighting him.

Her coat pocket vibrated, lighting up the inside enough that she could clearly see his beautiful yet deadly face.

The phone startled him, his head snapping toward the sound and fingers loosening from her arms.

She took advantage of the momentary distraction and pushed herself away from his chest.

The glare she received for the action was chilling. "I'll be back," he promised, letting her scramble away from him, "Be a good girl." He said, then disappeared without another word, leaving her alone in the now dead silent room.

She sat on the floor, back against a wall for a moment, catching her breath and attempting to gather her wits. She didn't know what to do, but she did know one thing, she had to hide. What if he came back? He said he would. But would he come back tonight? Was he still in the flat? He could just be letting her sit and think about all the terrible things to come. It was just the sort of sick game he used to play.

She stared at her closet door and made the decision.

She realized it was childish, and probably stupid to hide in a closet. She knew that, but it was the only place that felt safe. The bridesmaid dress from Harry and Ginny's wedding hung limply in her face and the heel of her boots was digging into her side, but she didn't dare move an inch. She remained in the same position for hours, waiting, waiting, waiting. Until she heard the front door slam open after a series of worried and unanswered knocks.

"Hermione!" Harry's voice traveled through the flat and gave her the push she needed to call out to him.

"Here. I'm here."

"Hermione, what the fuck!" Harry cursed when he yanked the door open and found her hiding in the back, shaking uncontrollably as she muttered to herself. He pulled her up and out of the closet. "Are you alright? Why were you in the closet? Gin said you wouldn't answer your phone."

She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at him and reassured herself that this was her best friend, not the man stalking her every move. "I…" she paused, noticing that light was streaming through the window. How long had she been in there?

Before she could say anything else Harry stiffened and she watched as his eyes traveled up and down her body. Her own eyes glanced down and sure enough, there were bruises.

Harry got the same look on his face that he had that day so many years ago. "What. Happened?"

"I was attacked."

He let go of her and started searching the house, but couldn't find anything that would indicate that someone was still there. "We'll call someone, and get the locks changed, ok?"

"It won't matter," she cried in defeat, slumping down onto her bed. "He'll find a way. He always does."

"Wait," concerned, her friend approached her. "Do you actually know who it was?"

"Yes," eyes glazed, she looked up into his face.

When she didn't continue he asked, "Well?"

She felt like she was going to cry again. "You won't believe me."

"Come on, Hermione. Just tell me. Who hurt you?"

Another beat and then, "It was Draco."

A mix of anger and worry crossed his features. "Hermione...I know you had a bad experience, ...but it couldn't have been him."

"I'm telling you, Harry! It's him!" She yelled, suddenly jumping up and heading toward him. After the night she'd had, she needed him to believe her. "He's following me!"

"And I'm telling you, Hermione," he hissed, grabbing her arms firmly so she couldn't run away, "That it's impossible! Malfoy is dead!"

She shook her head frantically. "No! He's not dead! He's alive. He's been in my house! He's followed me to work! It's him! I'm not imagining it! He attacked me! Why don't you believe me?"

"I believe that someone is stalking you," he said, trying his best to placate her, "But I promise you it's not him. I was the one that found his body, remember? I would have known if it was a fake."

"You don't understand-"

"He's gone," he promised her, "he can't hurt you anymore."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "but I promise I'm going to find out."

The following weeks left her in a miserable state. Harry had the locks changed but she was still concerned so they all took turns staying with her. She never left her house. Her job put her on an extended leave and she wandered the house at all hours of the night, peering outside to make sure no one was watching her. She saw a man with blonde hair walking a dog across the street once, and had a meltdown. Ginny had been the one there when it happened and it took her over an hour to get her to calm down.

Nightmares plagued her so she returned to her habit of not sleeping, and she refused to eat so her weight was rapidly dropping. She looked positively ill.

"Hermione, I've had enough." Harry said one day out of the blue.

She slowly turned her head towards him, "Of what?"

"Come on," he offered her his hand and she took it. "It's time you got out of the house."

Following after him like a child she asked, "Where are we going?"

He seemed agitated but not at her,"You'll see when we get there."

The car ride was fairly short but she didn't recognize the surrounding buildings and when they came around the last corner she saw it.

The sign.

St. Mungos.

A feeling of disbelief and betrayal overroad the fear she'd had earlier. "Why are we here, Harry?"

He winced as he put the car in park, "You need help, and we can't help you." He looked like a kicked dog, sitting there, eyes soft and pleading. "They can. Please let them help."

Tears pricked her eyes but she found herself nodding. He was right. She did need help, and if she was in a facility at least he couldn't get to her.

With that thought in mind she found herself nodding. "Okay."

That was a little over six months ago and now she sat awaiting the verdict. The door to the office opened and an older woman with a stern face and tight bun motioned for her to stand. "Come in Ms. Granger."

Hermione rose from her chair and entered the office, wincing slightly when the woman let the door close loudly behind them. "So we are here to discuss your release," she said as she came to sit behind the large oak desk.

"Yes, ma'am." she confirmed politely.

"Well, I have some rather good news for you."

She could have said anything and Hermione wouldn't have been able to repeat it. All that mattered in that moment, was that she was going home.

Two Days Later

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and took a step outside, smiling when the sun hit her face and the sound of birds chirping filled her ears. It had been so long since she'd been outside of those sad walls, so long since she'd been free. It felt good to walk down the sidewalk on her own without an orderly escorting her.

Harry and Ginny were waiting for her at the entrance, Harry offering her a happy grin as he opened the door to the car for her. "It's good to see you, Hermione," he told her, kissing her cheek, "You're looking well."

"I feel well." She admitted, sliding into the back seat. "I'm so glad to be out of that place."

Ginny winced in the front seat. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It was my idea...so if you're angry about it I unders-"

"Gin," she cut her off before more apologies could pour out of her mouth, "I'm not angry."

"You're not?"

She shook her head. "Everything that happened back then, at school and at my flat, I never really dealt with it. I finally had to face it in there. So I'm glad you guys cared enough about me to get me help when I needed it. Thank you."

It was a quiet trip back to Brixton. No one really knew what to say and that was fine. It would take time to get back to their new normal.

When they pulled up to the flat, Harry got out of the car and walked with her to the door, handing her the key he'd kept while she was away.

Harry looked between the flat and the car. "Are you sure you want to be here?" he asked, studying her face, "I have the spare room set up for you. You can stay as long as you like."

"I'm sure." She assured him with a smile. "I need to face my demons, you know? I won't run away from them anymore."

He opened his mouth like he wanted to protest but after a moment he conceded, "Fair enough." He gave her one last lingering hug, "Just...call me if you need anything, okay. And the room will always be waiting for you, if you want it."

"Thank you, Harry. You're a good friend."

"I don't know about that," he scoffed as he walked backward to the car. "But I'll take your word for it. Goodnight."

A buzzing started in her chest as she watched him back away. It wasn't too late. Maybe she could ask him to stay. Just be with her to get over this last hurdle. No, she could do this herself.

So instead of asking him to stay she simply called out, "Goodnight."

Ginny waved to her as Harry got back into the sedan, and Hermione turned to the place she'd called home for six years. The key felt heavy in her hand. This was it. The moment of truth.

She inhaled deeply, shoving down the anxiety as she put the key in the lock, turning it until it clicked. Slowly she pushed the door open. It was silent and undisturbed. The knot in her chest loosened just a bit as she leaned her back against the now closed door.

She couldn't help it, she laughed. She'd been so scared that all her progress would be lost as soon as she stepped foot in her flat. She was relieved to see that her fears were unjustified.

She was halfway to her bedroom when that relief turned to horror. There was an all too familiar laugh coming from the empty living room. "It's about time. I've been waiting."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her pulse quickened as she slowly turned towards the sound. "It's not real," she whispered to herself as she took a step forward. "It's all in your head, Hermione."

The laugh rang out again. "Is that what they have you believing, love?"

His voice sent a chill through her. She'd spent so many months convincing herself that this was all just a hallucination. Her therapist had talked her through the trauma of what had happened to her during her last years of school, so logically she knew what this was. It was a flashback. Her tormenter had died, but the memory of him hadn't left her. But that was all he was, a memory.

"You're not really here, Malfoy. You can't hurt me anymore!"

Brown eyes widened as he materialized out of the shadows, swaggering to her side like he deserved to be there. She willed herself to run but she was frozen in fear, in disbelief.

Smiling he ran his pale icy fingers down her cheek. "Oh, Granger," he said, grin spreading wider across his face as he leaned into her frozen frame. "It's always so cute when you think you can escape."