It had been a two and half months since Hermione had been normal. Normalcy seemed to have become being tortured and pissing off her captors on purpose. She'd preferred isolation to their sick and twisted torture anyway, but it left her feel entirely too complacent most of the time. Well, the time she had spent on the floor.

She was used to waiting without food or water for a few days. At one point she had licked up the puddle on the floor in her room just to survive. She could still feel the cold stone under her cheek, but she knew now that it was just a pillowcase. A wet pillowcase. Her husbands.

Ron was gone. Somewhere inside of her she knew he was already dead, but she pushed it off and told herself it was just worry. Just anxiety, just the fear that no one would come for her. Ron couldn't have come for her even though he was an Auror and the best, he was dead. Had been dead.

The view from where she was curled up on her bed was a nice one, much nicer than the one she'd been subjected to recently. She could see out of her bay window just barely through the gauzy fabric that seemed to move despite there being no airflow. Everything was so bright here. Even her white comforter seemed to glow.

She wasn't sure of the time or the day, she just got up when she needed to use the bathroom. She wasn't hungry, she wasn't even sure if she had a job anymore. She didn't really care, at least not now.

It was as if she'd been at a too loud rock concert, the finely tuned wining in her ear filled her mind and head completely. Tinnitus. She knew what it was and knew what caused it. It was one of the kinder effects of the Cruciatus curse.

She'd been staring out the window so long that she lost track of time or days or anything. She registered dark and light, but not when and how often. Time inched by and she had become used to it. She'd become an expert at waiting. That's why when someone started banging at her door she could barely find the energy to raise up from the bed.

She had made it halfway down the hall towards the door when it opened of its own accord, revealing a reflective Lucius in the bright morning light. She shielded her eyes as if he burned her and slumped against the wall. "I told you I didn't want you here."

"And I told you three days," he paused, looking her up and down. "I should have said two apparently."

Hermione glanced down herself and realized she was wearing sleeping shorts and one of Ron's shirts. One of his favorite Chudley Canons shirts actually, even though she despised the sport. Three days had already come and gone, and she hadn't showered or brushed her teeth or even eaten in that span.

She heard a deep sigh from Lucius, "Well, go sit down at the table. I'll make you something to eat." Before she had a chance to protest, he was already in the kitchen. She decided he was moving entirely too fast or she was moving entirely too slow.

"I don't feel very well," Hermione sat at her well-worn table and placed her head on her arms.

"Don't worry. I'll make it light. I doubt your stomach can handle much right now."

Within a few minutes, she had an egg white scramble and a piece of toast in front of her. She poked at it mutely with a fork before deciding it was acceptable and took a small bite. Lucius sat across from her with a similar plate and started eating. Companionable silence with the father of a boy who had called her a mudblood was not something she ever thought she'd do.

The two of them ate silently, neither needing to speak to fill the air. Lucius finished his far before Hermione and immediately pulled out something from his bag which he started to scribble on. She's finished half of her food when she pushed her plate away. Lucius raised an eyebrow at her but let it go.

"Go shower and come back down." His quill scratched across the paper in fluid looping letters and his pale eyes never left the page. He didn't need to look up to see if she obeyed or heard him. His voice held a dominant tone that communicated he shouldn't be ignored.

Hermione stood and place both of their dishes in the sink before muttering a thank you to him. He nodded, and she went down the hallway. She was nothing if not polite, she'd even thanked her captors for not kicking her quite as hard at times.

Hermione was standing in front of her mirror, now completely naked. Her body was marred beyond comprehension. She hadn't realized just how numb she had become to the torture she endured, and she assumed that something in her had mentally snapped at one point. There were deep bruises in the shape of handprints all up and down her arms from being jostled, dragged, and worse. The cut at her hairline was completely closed up, but the angry red line stayed behind. Her lip was the same way as was her eyebrow.

Her knees were bright red and scarred from being on her knees and her calves and thighs bore the brunt of many boots during her stay. She held up her hands and saw that her nails were still chewed to the quick and bloody, no doubt from her three-day isolation in her bed.

Magic and hair always amazing Hermione. Harry had told her about the time when Petunia had shaved his head and the next day it'd grown completely back. Her hair wasn't completely back, but in the last 3 days, it had grown at least three inches. Her captors had shaved her head several times in the beginning, before her spirit had been broken.

Suddenly, water sprayed on her and she didn't even remember getting into the shower. She shook her head, drips of water flinging from her baby curls. She did what she was supposed to. Washed herself from top to bottom and then she just stood in the too hot water. The steaming water against her skin felt painful and wonderful at the same time, as if it were challenging her to move. She heard a resounding knock at the door to her bathroom and she shut the water off.

"I'll wait for you in the sitting room. No rush."

She nodded to no one and got out and started toweling off. She excited without glancing again in the mirror not wanting to see her marred flesh again. She pulled on one of her favorite house dresses that hung even looser than it was supposed to and started walking out toweling her hair.

As she made it to the sitting room she caught the glint of red on her towel and pulled it away. Streaks of blood decorated the towel and she stared at it until she felt and arm on her elbow leading her to sit down.

Her brown settee was as soft as ever, but Lucius had a muggle first aid kit beside him as he set her down. "You just opened up your forehead laceration. I can fix it up."

"Is that mine?" Hermione choked out, not realizing she was in the middle of silently crying.

"No, it's mine. New Auror required training that we are all supposed to be trained in Muggle First Aid due to the nature of the most recent adversary. Their torture is magic resistant."

"I know."

"Of course," he said shaking his head a bit. "My apologies."

His fingers were cool against her skin and gentle as he carefully placed a butterfly bandage near her hairline. He cleaned up the blood that had trickled down her face and immediately packed up his kit and stood. Placing it in his bag, he turned and sat back down on the chair across from her.

"Thank you." She squeaked to which he waved his hand. She tucked her feet up under her tent of fabric in her house dress. The silence stretched again for a few minute, "Mr. Malfoy?"

He looked up from his writing and looked at her patiently.

"My wand. Do you know what happened to it?"

He smiled and opened his bag and pulled out a wand wrapped in black velvet. "It was recovered where you were taken." He stood and placed it in her hands.

The velvet packet lay between her hands and her vision became blurry again. She was sick of crying. It was all she had been able to do since she'd been back and suddenly she was angry. Angry at him, no, but angry all the same. Her comment was cut off suddenly by a knock at her door.

Lucius followed her to the door, unsure of who would be coming by.

Molly Weasly didn't waste any time before she bustled in and enveloped Hermione in a tight hug. Followed behind her were Ginny, Fleur, Angelina, Luna, and her own mother. The cavalry had arrived.

Molly was instantly in the kitchen, setting pots and pans to work while opening all of the curtains in the front rooms. Lucius was passed by many times, but he settled back on the couch once he realized Hermione was okay.

Fleur was holding a bundle of fabric balanced on her very pregnant belly and she ushered Hermione to one of the guest bedrooms with Ginny and Luna in tow. Her mother had squeezed her hand as she passed by and went into the kitchen with Molly.

Hermione was told to stand in a chair while Fleur took her measurements and placed a rough outline of a robe on her. "What are you guys doing?" Hermione finally asked after gaining the courage to talk.

"You don't have any clothes zat fit." Fleur said with a mouth full of straight pins. "I vill fix that. I'll make you zree simple dresses, appropriate ones for mourning." She pinned the last pin, "And a beautiful, simple robe for each one."

"She was determined." Ginny smiled. "She wouldn't listen to us!" Ginny stood with navy, violet, and black fabric piled on her arms until Fleur flicked her wand at her and the fabric flew up and started cutting itself into shapes for the dress.

"She probably got tricked by a Nargle." Luna offered in her dreamy voice. "Those Nargles make us act very strangely."

Hermione listened to the chatter back and forth and allowed Fleur to finish her dresses. Each one just brushed her knees and had loose sleeves to the elbow with a modest neckline. They were each very simple, but beautifully made. Much better than the circus tent she had been wearing.

She decided to leave on the black dress that Fleur had made her try on last and thanked her with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She felt two warm hands push her down and the heavenly feeling of a brush against her scalp. Ginny smiled down at her as she brushed out the snarls left by being bed ridden for three days. She coaxed her curls to form on their own and tied a thin red scarf around her like a head band. "For Gryffindor." She whispered in Hermione's ear who smiled and nodded.

Luna offered Hermione a beaded necklace with a small, burlap satchel on the end. Hermione smiled, "What is this for, Luna? Keeping the Nargles away?"

"No," Luna smiled, "Though I can bring a deterrent for you. This satchel is for your nightmares."

Hermione's smile fell but she gained it back quickly, "Thank you, Luna. That was quite thoughtful." She gave the blond a quick hug and slipped the necklace under her dress.

They all walked back out after two hours to see a full spread for a hearty lunch of sandwiches, fresh vegetables, fruit, and pastries. Molly and Caroline Granger were pleased to see her with her new dress and ushered her to sit down.

While the lunch spread certainly looked delicious, Hermione hadn't regained much of her appetite at all. She took a banana and a small egg salad sandwich and hoped no one would pressure her to eat more.

Everyone hustling and bustling about helped Hermione feel more normal again. They all talked excitedly to one another, relaying again and again how happy they all were to have her home. Caroline squeezed her knee under the table and gave her a sideways smile.

"Are they always like this?"

Hermione smiled, "Worse. This is toned down." Hermione smiled again and caught sight of Lucius still standing guard over his paper work across the hall. He hadn't eaten yet.

Hermione quickly gathered a few things on a plate for him and walked across the hall, placing the plate on the armchair. "I normally don't let anyone eat in here, but I'll make an exception."

He looked up from his writing to her and gave the barest hint of a curl of his lip, "I thank you for the consideration." He set his bag aside and pulled the plate into his lap. "Were you able to eat?"

"A little." She offered. "Still not up to Molly's cooking yet."

He nodded subtly as he took a bite of a lamb and pear sandwich. "She certainly can cook." To Hermione's nod he added, "Are you tired? Would you like to go lay down?" His voice was low and concerned, and she could feel him assessing her with his eyes.

Hermione nodded, her eyes filling up again. "I would like that very much." It wasn't that she didn't want them there, she was just so tired.

He nodded and flicked his wrist toward the hallway. "Go. I'll make your excuses."

Hermione started to walk down the hall and barely made it through her bedroom door before she sunk to the floor and started to weep silently. Her family was here to take care of her, but she only wanted them to leave. She just wanted to be alone.