A/N: Standard disclaimers apply. You'll find this chapter is much longer than the others I have posted up to this point. Chapter length will vary based on what I feel are "natural stopping points." Some will be longer, others will be shorter. I love reading the reviews and getting e-mail notifications about follows and favorites. Thank you for the support!

As of June 2018, Chapter 3 has been revised and about 1000 words were added with a few changes here and there.

Hermione eyed the plump, disgustingly cheerful mediwitch with a look of contempt. The witch seemed to have no concept of the fact that Hermione wanted nothing to do with her. She just continued bustling about, doing… things… and being overly cheerful and it grated on Hermione's nerves to no end. The woman had been designated to care for Hermione since the beginning of her stay at St. Mungo's and if the infuriating woman ever shared her name, Hermione had long forgotten what it was. Not that she really cared.

"Drink up, my dear." The healer said, passing Hermione a foaming, periwinkle blue potion while she carefully prepared one that looked a bit too green for Hermione's tastes.

Lifting the potion to her nose, Hermione breathed in a wisp of fragrance and immediately regretted it, drawing back from the offensive smell with a wrinkle of her nose. "I'm not drinking that. It smells awful."

"The potion masters have assured me it should help lessen your nightmares and perhaps increase your rate of progress." The medi-witch said, pouring the contents of one vial into the green potion Hermione had been wary of turning it a deep ochre. "You've been here quite a long time, you know."

The prospect of any sort of ease from the nightmares which plagued her night after night was too tempting. She pinched her nose and knocked it back quickly, vigorously rubbing her tongue against the top of her mouth, trying to rid herself of the taste as her body shuddered, her lips curling into what could only be described as a snarl.

Hermione toyed with the hem of the white shirt made of hospital cotton. "Do I have to wear this?" She said, motioning to the clothing she was currently wearing.

This particular question nearly elicited a squeal from the medi-witch and Hermione just stared unamusedly at the ridiculous woman as she clapped her hands together.

"That sweet redheaded girl dropped off clothes for you months ago. Would you prefer robes or muggle clothing, dear?"

"Muggle clothing," Hermione said, plainly.

With a look of concentration, the medi-witch summoned the chest of drawers made from dark wood which hadn't been in Hermione's room for months. "Everything Ms. Weasley brought is in there." She said, pointing at the new piece of furniture while she went back to preparing the potion.

Hermione slid off of the bed and opened one of the drawers, selecting a pair of jeans and an old Gryffindor t-shirt from inside. She traced her fingers over the Hogwarts crest almost lovingly before changing into the items she had picked. The shirt and jeans were a bit too big and looked somewhat baggy on her still emaciated frame. She had put on some weight but not enough to wear her jeans without the threat of them falling off if she made too many sudden movements.

Her gaze shifted from the chest of drawers to the window where several books were piled on the sill.

"I remember there were chairs… before. Can they be moved back in as well?" She asked, watching a bird fluttering outside of the window.

"I promise I won't try anything with them." She added quickly, knowing she was the reason her room was barely furnished.

"Of course, of course." She said, handing Hermione the final potion before also summoning the two plush armchairs with blue upholstery and a small table that had previously occupied Hermione's room. A tea service appeared on the table moments later.

"Thank you," Hermione muttered quietly before moving over to the window. She sat in one of the chairs and tucked her feet underneath her and opened the book she had been reading, tracing her fingers along the spine. With her free hand, Hermione poured herself a cup of tea in a cup that was charmed to be unbreakable as she heard a knock on her door. Draco entered cautiously with his robes draped over his arm. Hermione saw a smile cross his face as he noted the new chairs near the window.

He gestured to the one opposite of her, "May I?"

He settled into the chair following a nod of assent from Hermione and opened a book he had brought with him. Typically, he sat next to her bed as they both read their books, but the addition of the chairs and table seemed to make things slightly more comfortable. He glanced up at her every so often over the pages of his book and Hermione found she didn't mind their strange routines or his company. She was still somewhat wary of him, but she was wary of everyone though his stubbornness had wormed his way into her presence more than anyone else she knew from before. Sometimes they would talk, but most of the time they would just sit in a companionable silence. He almost always waited for her to speak first and never seemed to mind if not a single word was uttered between them.

"Eight months?" She asked, keeping her eyes trained on the text of her book.

His eyes glanced up at her from his book and with a nod of his head, he confirmed, "Yes, eight months."

"Do you think they'll let me have my wand back?" She asked. She hadn't seen her wand since the day she had been dragged into that alleyway, though she had attempted wandless magic with little success.

"Eventually… when you're well." He replied plainly. Whenever she asked a question, he never seemed afraid to give her the answer, even if it wasn't one she wanted to hear. She appreciated that he was a plainspoken man and didn't try to coddle her.

Hermione scoffed with a raise of her brows. "When I'm well. That may as well mean never."

Draco closed his book and set it on the table and leaned forward, placing his hand near her, but not touching her. "There will be a day, and it may take a long time, that you will be well." He assured her with a confidence she wasn't expecting.

"Did they… do you… do you know what happened to me?" She asked him, with a slight tremble in her voice.

Draco shook his head with a slight frown. "I know a few things, mostly based on your… wounds… when you were admitted."

Hermione didn't know why she felt compelled to talk to him. She hadn't spoken to anyone about what had happened to her despite urgings from her designated healer and scheduled sessions with a mind-healer.

Her voice was shaky as she began recanting the events of her captivity. "I was walking in Diagon Alley after having met Ginny for lunch when I was disarmed, pulled into an alley, and forced into side-along apparition. It took less than three seconds, but I heard the cries of people on the sidewalk before he… took me."

She closed her eyes, a painful shiver shooting up her spine as she continued. "The first few months weren't so bad… com-compared to the end. I was given a room in a house. I slept in a bed, and was able to eat and bathe regularly."

She folded her hands on the table, the beginnings of mournful tears starting to show through her thick lashes. "The more I fought, the more I cried, and the more I screamed… the more he hurt me, raped me…"

Draco's hand covered hers and though she flinched she didn't move away. He could see the faint silvery scars circling her wrists from where she had been restrained.

"It was all physical at first and then he started using magic. Incarcerous. Impedimenta. Confundus, Deprimo, Obscuro, Everte Startum, Diffindo, Immobulus, Crucio, Imperio…" she listed, her voice trailing off as she came to the unforgiveables.

"When you…your team found me… I-I think he was only days away from finally killing me. I think he felt you closing in."

Draco squeezed her hand. "Hermione, I am so sorry it took us so long." He said as gently as he could given that he was flushed with a simmering anger that nearly caused his blood to boil.

She shook her head as the tears coating her lashes finally released, rolling down her cheeks like rain on a window. "Someone told me I was there for six years."

"Yes." He confirmed.

"I fought for six years and I'm forced to re-live every moment whenever I close my eyes. The potions do nothing. I've prayed for death, begged for it, and even tried to take matters into my own hands. Why won't they just let me die?" She pulled her hand out of his and covered her face, her elbows slamming down to the table as she cradled her head in her hands.

Draco moved from the chair and knelt in front of her, one of his hands settling on her elbow. "I know you're tired of fighting, Hermione. If you give up now, it will have all been for nothing. We can't let him win and we… I… will be here to make sure he doesn't." He said, rubbing gentle circles over her elbow with his hand.

When the tears finally stilled, Hermione watched the snow as it fell from the heavens and floated to the ground, her chin resting on one hand while the fingers of her other hand were entwined with Draco's as he sat opposite of her with his book in his hand. The remainder of the afternoon was passed in a companionable silence and for once, Hermione felt comforted.

….

Draco tenderly nursed a glass of scotch, staring at the hole his fist had made in the wall. It didn't matter that his knuckles were bloody and his hand was throbbing when the thoughts of the conversation he and Hermione were swirling around in his mind. Taking a long pull of the amber liquid, he closed his eyes and rested back against the cushions on the sofa, attempting to draw a memory of her where she wasn't bloody or broken. His mind settled on his first encounter with her following their graduation from Hogwarts.

Their weekly outings to the pub in muggle London had just started and they were on their way to friendship but were currently settled into a comfortable camaraderie from having to work so closely while they were finishing up their auror training. Draco and Harry had been chatting with Potter's fiancée at the time, Ginny Weasley about the events during training that day.

"So, your brother whips out his wand and attempts to fire a hex and Finnegan but he didn't pronounce the spell right and it completely backfired."

Ginny was doubled over, howling with laughter, imagining Ron covered with green and purple iridescent scales.

"The best part is his hair didn't change. Weasley looked like this scowling, scaly lizard whose head was on fire!" Draco quipped with a chuckle. "You should've seen the look on his face, Gin. I don't know long it took our instructor to work out how to set him right."

Harry snorted. "Must've been a few hours. He's my best mate, Gin, but good lord, he's not cut out for this part of training. I expect he'll do better when we move on to strategizing given his proficiency with wizard's chess but to lose in a duel to Finnegan?"

Ginny was still doubled over in the booth her ginger hair spilling over on to the table, laughing so hard tears were running down her face. "I know! I've no… idea how…. he managed to survive… the war."

Harry and Draco exchanged a knowing look and a pair of amused smiles before responding in unison.

"Granger."

"Hermione."

"Did someone say my name?" Hermione had appeared as though out of thin air, holding an excessively fruity looking drink in her hand. Her curly locks were piled high on top of her head in a messy bun, a few tendrils escaping, framing her face. She was wearing a loose t-shirt over a pair of leggings with trainers. She must have just come from the gym.

"Hey you." Harry smiled, standing to embrace her. "We were just telling Ginny about Ron's spectacular mishap today," Harry reported as Ginny moved over, Hermione sliding into the booth next to her.

"It must have been a good story, you've rendered this one senseless." Hermione quipped motioning to the red headed witch next to her with a wiggle of her brows.

Draco inclined his head towards the brunette witch, politely. "Granger."

"Malfoy" She replied, coolly.

After his trial where he was exonerated from his crimes during the war, Draco had caught glimpses of her here and there. She popped in to see Potter and Weasley periodically during the lunch hour on training days. Having read about her involvement in the war in a particularly lengthy spread in the Prophet, he had found himself in awe of her resourcefulness and intellect as they described the details that led to the fall of Voldemort. The war had changed many things and one thing it had certainly done was altered his view on Granger.

"When does your apprenticeship start again, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

She stirred the fruity drink absently with her straw. "Next week. I leave for Scotland on Friday."

"Apprenticeship?" Draco questioned, raising an eyebrow. He was all but certain she had already had several job offers from different departments within the Ministry.

Hermione nodded, "I'm pursuing a mastery in charms and Flitwick is helping me prepare before I start. I think I'd like to go into research or maybe teach one day."

"With you turning down all of those offers from the Ministry, does this mean we don't have to hear about SPEW anymore?" Harry chuckled.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, glaring daggers at Harry as she crossed her arms over her chest. Draco was certain if she was capable of wandless magic, she would've used it on Potter at this moment. "It's S.P.E.W. you great prat and of course not. I've already submitted a proposal to the Ministry." She said just a bit too smugly before a look of annoyance settled over her features. "It's caught up in the bureaucracy at the moment, but I thoroughly intend to keep Shacklebolt on his toes about his promise to review it personally."

Draco took a long pull on his drink, utterly confused at the current subject of the conversation. What was SPIT or was it SPEW.? Draco wasn't sure he wanted to know given the somewhat nauseating acronym that accompanied whatever it stood for.

Draco was pulled from his thoughts after hearing a knock on his door. He murmured a quick Reparo causing the hole in the wall to promptly close, leaving no trace it was ever there in the first place. Draco set his glass of scotch down and opened the door to find Pansy's smirking face staring at him.

"I don't know why you insist on coming in through the door when you could just as easily use the Floo." He chided as she pushed past him.

"How's Granger?" she asked, plopping down onto his couch in a very unladylike fashion, removing her heels and tossing them aside.

Draco closed the door and crossed the room, "Not good."

"Has she made any progress?" The witch asked, her voice betraying how tired she was.

By the time Draco neared the couch, Pansy had rearranged the couch pillows and was sprawled out on the couch as though she owned it. Draco chuckled inwardly, idly wondering how good she was at spying for the Ministry given how easy to read she was. Maybe he had just known her for too long.

"A bit. She told me what happened to her today… but I don't think I got the whole story." Draco picked up his near-empty glass and the bottle of scotch and moved Pansy's legs, sitting down on the couch. He pulled her legs back over his lap and knocked back what was left in the glass.

Pansy's eyes drifted to his bloodied knuckles. "It must have been a doozy. Where was the hole, this time?" She said, grabbing her wand to heal his knuckles. She knew better than to press him for information about Hermione.

Draco gestured vaguely to the wall he had punched after he poured himself another glass of scotch. "Over there somewhere, I fixed it after I heard you knocking."

"You don't have to do this, you know," Pansy said quietly. "Granger has friends who are perfectly capable of spending time and helping her to move on and heal from what happened to her," Pansy stated, flourishing her wand and setting a tumbler to fill with ice and whiskey from across the room. With another flick, it floated into her hand and she signed happily as the honeyed liquid burned her throat.

Draco absently ran his hands over Pansy's leg. "I'm the only one, apart from her assigned healer, who ever gets past the door unless she's asleep. Molly and Ginny have tried several times and she becomes hysterical. I won't pretend to understand it, but for some reason, the sight of me doesn't do that to her… anymore."

Pansy raised her eyebrows, her confusion plainly displayed on her face. "That makes absolutely no sense. You made her life hell while we were in school and yet she's the only one you'll see."

Draco signed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face. "I'm there more than I'm at home and I'm going to keep going back. This is…" he hesitated, "well, it's something I just need to see through to the end… whatever that may be."

Pansy rested her hand on his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze, thoughts swirling around in her mind. She ran the fingers of her other hand through her dark hair, a sudden realization bringing a smile to her lips. She knew Draco better than she knew anyone else and his interactions with Granger, albeit few up until the time of her rescue, were very telling. Her intuition never failed and that was one thing that made her such an asset to the Ministry, though she knew he couldn't see it yet.

With a stretch and another sip of whiskey, she simply said, "I knew you would the second you told me she'd been found, Draco."

….

Hermione rolled over in her bed covering her head with a pillow in an attempt to shield herself from the bright sunlight that had invaded her room with a draw of the curtains.

"Good morning, dearie!" The plump medi-witch nearly shouted as she smiled brightly. "I think it's a lovely day for a walk now that the snow is nearly gone."

"No." Hermione groaned beneath the pillow, silently cursing the meddlesome witch.

"Fresh air will do you a world of good. You've not left your room once since you've arrived and that handsome young man who visits you is here." She said, tearing the pillow away from Hermione's grasp with a determined smile that set Hermione's teeth on edge.

Hermione clenched her teeth and muttered an almost vicious "Fine", as she padded over to the chest of drawers and began rummaging for something to wear.

"There's a good girl." The cheerful healer said with a chuckle.

Hermione selected a jumper and a pair of trousers and dressed quickly, pulling on a set of warm robes over her clothes. She gathered her courage and walked towards the door, pausing in the doorway when she saw Draco leaning against the wall directly opposite of her room. His appearance was impeccable as always when he came to visit. His formal outer robes were hanging open to reveal black trousers, a black waistcoat with a gold pocket watch attached, and under that, a black oxford. Hermione realized she'd not seen him wear any color other than black in the entire time he had been visiting her except when he arrived in his Auror robes after work some days.

She stood frozen in the doorway as their eyes met, her hands resting on the doorframe. "I… I can't…"

"You can." He smiled, offering her his hand, stepping across the narrow hallway to close the distance between them. "Take my hand. We'll be with you." He motioned to himself and the medi-witch who was standing behind Hermione. "You can do this." Draco urged.

Hermione paused for several moments in careful consideration before reaching out tentatively with her hand. She stood there for what felt like ages, her small hand tucked safely into his before finally taking a step outside of her room.

"There we go. It's just this way." Draco motioned down the hallway, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Hermione nodded, moving slowly, cautiously her eyes darting as they continued down the corridor with Draco matching her pace even as he guided them towards the courtyard.

The courtyard at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was a fairly large enclosed space. Vines in varying shades of green covered four stone walls. Frost resistant flowers were sown in beds at the base of the stone walls and a paved walking path curved around several tall oak trees. There were several benches spaced throughout the courtyard, most often in the shade of one of the trees. There were patches of snow here and there on the ground from the recent spring snowstorm, but the majority of the snow had melted off by this point.

As Hermione stepped out into the sunlight after more than nine months since the night of her rescue, she felt a brief wave of tranquility wash over her as she breathed in the crisp spring air, closing her eyes the cold wind tousling her curls.

"Would you like to sit over there for a moment?" Draco motioned to a wooden bench at the other side of the courtyard. Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she nodded.

"Yes, please."

….

Hermione glanced up from her book as she heard the light tapping on the door to her hospital room. Given that only one person ever knocked when he came, she assumed it was Draco. Hermione had even started to look forward to his visits. He usually stopped by a few times during the week, sometimes for only a few moments whereas other times he would stay for hours. On the rare occasion where he couldn't visit, he always sent a fresh bouquet of flowers with a simple card attached explaining why he wouldn't be able to be there that day.

As he entered her room, he smiled mischievously. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought someone with me today." The red-headed witch peeked out from behind Draco, smiling warmly albeit a bit nervously. Hermione remained still but didn't jump or flinch at the sight of the red head. She studied her for a moment, noting her friend was filling out and was starting to look more like Molly.

"Hi Hermione," Ginny said with a tentative wave as she stepped out from behind Draco.

"Ginny." Hermione's expression remained neutral and she turned back to her book and Ginny's smile turned downward into a slight frown.

Draco nudged Ginny forward, leaning close to whisper in her ear. "We talked about this. Remember? Just go sit with her."

Ginny moved slowly across the room toward where Hermione sat beneath the window. "May I join you?" Ginny asked, motioning to the chair across from Hermione.

Hermione nodded, keeping her attention on her book. Draco had warned Ginny that this might happened. Some days, Hermione spoke more than others. Other days, she simply sat and let him speak to her. Most days, he simply waited for her to initiate the conversation and they sat in silence.

Ginny who absolutely couldn't stand the silence after having grown up in such a large family, opened her mouth in a wide smile and immediately started nattering.

"We've missed you, Hermione." She started. "Harry, Ron, and I. Mum and dad too. Even Charlie, George, and Bill ask about you from time to time. We don't see Percy too much, he's still too busy sticking his nose up Shacklebolt's ass to come to family dinners." She released a nervous laugh.

"Bill and Fleur just had their second child, a sweet little girl who happens to look just like Bill, red hair and all. You can guess how Fleur feels about that."

"Harry and I got married about four years ago now. James is our son and he's eighteen months old and he looks exactly like Harry, but his favorite person is Draco." Ginny paused to take a breath. "Did you know that Draco and Harry work together at the Ministry? Oh wait, of course you do. Anyways. We're still friends and we meet every week for drinks at the muggle pub we used to go to all of the time before… well, you know."

Draco sat at the edge of Hermione's bed, watching the two witches as Ginny continued to prattle on about her life. Ginny looked very uncomfortable in her one-sided conversation and Hermione looked almost… better. Color had been returning to her cheeks over the past several weeks as they had been venturing outside more and her clothes were fitting better as she continued to gain weight. She still carried dark circles beneath her eyes, but Draco knew the reason for those. None of the potions the healers gave her seemed to calm her nightmares, not even dreamless sleep.

Hermione shut her book, abruptly cutting Ginny's rambling off and turned her head toward Draco. "Can we go outside today?"

Ginny's mouth was still hanging open, mid-syllable, the lock of shock on her face evident, though she quickly tried to suppress it as Draco turned to Hermione. "Of course. What would you like to do when we go?" He asked simply, kneeling down next to Hermione, waiting patiently for her response.

Hermione remained silent for several minutes and Draco could almost see the wheels turning in her brain. "Run." She breathed, almost smiling. "Draco, I'd like to run."

Ginny mulled over the exchange that had just occurred. Hermione had thrown up a wall that Ginny wasn't expecting as soon as she had walked through the door, but that wall had come crashing down as soon as she looked at Malfoy. Ginny stood up, turning to face her friend. "I should go."

Hermione nodded. "The next time you come, please bring Harry or Molly. I would like to see them." Her expression remained neutral, but her words spoke volumes to the redhead.

Ginny nodded, fervently, her exuberant smile returning. "I will, Hermione. I promise. We'll be by next week."

Draco stood and offered Hermione his hand as Ginny exited the room. Hermione accepted his offer and quickly moved to the chest of drawers and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding them tightly against her as if they would vanish.

Draco stepped out of the room as she changed, waiting for her just on the other side. He rubbed his face with his hands; he hadn't been sleeping much either and was hoping dark circles were not beginning to form under his own eyes. She had done much better with Ginny than he had expected and her invitation for the witch to return was promising. She might deny that the potions were having no effect, but something certainly was.

When she exited the room, he took her hand in his and led her outside. She glanced at Draco, frowning slightly who was once again dressed in impeccable robes. "You're not dressed for running." It wasn't a smile, but it was an emotion beyond fear, terror, or the look of calm neutrality she had taken to wearing these days.

"No, I'm not, love." The word rolled off of his tongue so easily that he didn't notice the slip. "I'll be right here." He said, leaning against a tree in the courtyard, smiling.

With a deep breath and some determination, Hermione willed her feet to move. She started out at a slow jog and worked her pace up as she ran circles around the courtyard, following a paved pathway. The cool air whipped her curls around her face as she reached top speed and a single clear ringing peal of laughter escaped her lips for the first time in recent memory.

Draco was at her side before her knees hit the pavement. He felt her small arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her face into his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. He slowly pulled his arms around her, gently stroking her back with his fingertips. He nuzzled the top of her head with his nose, breathing in the scent of her hair as he fluttered a kiss against her curls.

He braced himself for a punch he thoroughly expected, but it never came.