A/N: Thanks to AlexandraO for lending her beta services! Drop me a line and let me know your thoughts. Find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff!
A week after Rabastan's trial, Hermione finally found the time to make it to Lestrange Park. She had absolved his life debt by taking it as payment, but she hadn't actually planned to move in. She could own a property without living in it, right? The press surrounding Rabastan's trial had been insane, and she wanted to give him space before he had to suffer her presence again. She was sure he was settling in, getting used to being outside of Azkaban. So when she apparated to Lestrange Park she was concerned not to see a single light in the entire house lit. It wasn't overly late, just after six in the evening, but maybe he'd gone to bed already? Or was out?
Although, she didn't think he would be out. She had been keeping tabs on the press and not once was he caught out in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. She assumed it was possible he was either in the Muggle world or at a friends house. Did he even have any friends that weren't also locked up in Azkaban? Hermione didn't know. There was so much about this man that she was about to tie her life to that she didn't know. She had meant to have a mind-healer come by and check on him, and she hadn't had a chance to arrange that. Maybe she would get to it this week.
Opening the front door, Hermione called out for Lestrange but didn't hear anything. She knew that the property usually had house elves, but they had been freed while the property sat in probate court. It was a rather large house, too much for one person to take care of, even with magic. Maybe she should see if she could hire a house elf or two? She wandered through the first few rooms, lighting lights as she went and occasionally calling out for Lestrange. He was nowhere to be found on the ground floor, so she made her way back to the entrance hall and up the grand staircase to the first floor. It split at the top of the staircase, and a hallway ran down the length of the house. Hermione took the one on the left first and opened door after door to find empty bedrooms, sitting rooms, studies, and no Lestrange. Maybe he really was out?
When she made it to the right side, the second door she opened was a sitting room, and Lestrange was face down on the floor.
"Lestrange?!" Hermione rushed to his side and rolled him over onto his back. He was breathing, but it was troubled, and he looked like he was in pain, if the way his face was contorting was anything to go by.
"Lestrange!" Hermione shook him, but the man didn't wake.
"Shit, fuck, shit," Hermione muttered and grabbed Lestrange's arm. It was awkward to apparate without standing, but she managed, landing directly in front of St Mungo's. She levitated Lestrange in front of her and rushed inside the hospital.
"I need a healer!" Hermione shouted as soon as she made it inside.
The welcome witch rushed from behind her desk, peppering Hermione with questions.
"I don't know!" Hermione said. "I just found him like this, he's obviously struggling to breathe and looks to be in pain."
A dark-blond healer rushed over and began running some diagnostics, all while Hermione still had Lestrange levitated in the air. It was beginning to cause her some strain. Lestrange wasn't a small man, despite having spent many years in Azkaban.
"Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry." The welcome witch flicked her wand and a gurney came flying toward them. Hermione gratefully set Lestrange onto the bed. Soon the healers were wheeling him away, and the welcome witch showed Hermione to the nearest tearoom to wait.
An interminable amount of time later, the same dark-blond healer entered the tearoom searching her out.
"Miss Granger?"
"Yes, how's Mr Lestrange?"
"Let's take a walk," the tearoom had a few other people in it, and at the mention of Hermione's last name, they'd looked up with interest. The war was long over, but Hermione Granger was still quite famous. Even if she did her best to keep her face out of the papers. She followed the healer out of the tearoom, and he led her down a bright hallway. They stopped in front of the door, and the healer opens it, showing Lestrange lying in a bed.
"Is he alright?" Hermione asked in a whisper.
"He'll live, once the life debts are absolved," the healer confirms.
Hermione looked at him sharply, how would he know about the life debts?
"He's displaying the classic symptoms of someone suffering under the weight of too many life debts," the healer shook his head. "Silly pure-blood tradition really, especially when we're a society who's just had two wars. He's not the only one we've seen, but his does seem most severe. Do you know who he owes them too? We should find that person as quickly as we can."
Hermione nodded, "I'll take care of it. Will he wake?"
"Yes, we've just put him in a light sleep, for now, to give his body time to rest."
The healer smiled at her briefly before leaving the room entirely. Hermione walked closer to the bed. Lestrange looked at peace lying on the bed, although he still seemed far too pale.
"You're going to have to help me," Hermione muttered to the sleeping man. "I don't know how this works or what I'm supposed to do."
She reached her hand out and grasped one of his, and he woke with a sharp inhale. His bright blue eyes finding hers immediately.
"Granger?" his voice was hoarse.
"Hey, Lestrange," Hermione smiled at him and was surprised when he squeezed her hand. "You gave me a scare."
"It's the life debts. You didn't…" he broke off and coughed. Hermione helped him sit up and poured him a glass of water. When he was settled again, he went on, "you didn't move into Lestrange Park. The life debt didn't wholly absolve."
Hermione sighed, she was afraid of that, "I'll move in immediately then."
"Could just let me die," Lestrange muttered, closing his eyes.
Hermione frowned, "Why do you want to die?"
"Don't," Lestrange said. "But don't want you to hate me either."
Hermione sighed. "I don't hate you, Lestrange. I want to know more about you, and why your Dark Mark never stuck, but I don't hate you. And, I can't let you die. I don't know how much you know about me, but I would never let anyone die if it was in my power to stop it."
Lestrange seemed to breathe easier then. "When will I need to be out?"
"Out of St Mungo's? I'd say as soon as the life debt absolves. I can have my things moved immediately."
Shaking his head, Lestrange said, "No, out of Lestrange Park."
"I'm not kicking you out of your home!"
"You accepted it. It's no longer mine."
Hermione pursed her lips, "Then would you like to live with me?"
Lestrange nodded, a sigh forming on his lips before his eyes slipped closed once more and he fell asleep. Hermione sat for a moment longer, still holding his hand as she thought over their conversation. It seemed in order for the life debts to properly be absolved, she had to accept his compensation with open arms. She was going to need that house elf after all.
Two days later, Hermione had moved into Lestrange Park. Lestrange was still at St Mungo's, still too weak to be moved. She hoped with all the work she, and Tilly, the house elf she hired to care for Lestrange Park, did over the last few days would be enough to get Lestrange out of the hospital.
She stalked the halls of St Mungo's the way she stalked the halls of the Ministry. Even here people scurried out of her way, and it made her want to smirk. She kept her face straight though; it wouldn't do to go scaring everyone. Stopping in front of Lestrange's door she took a deep breath. The man inside unsettled her, and soon she would be living with him. She wondered if this would allow her to know him enough to feel comfortable with him? On her way to his room, she'd stopped to see a mind-healer she had worked with before, Healer Fawley. Fawley planned to stop by Lestrange Park the following day to have a conversation with Lestrange and see what sorts of permanent mental damage he had.
Hermione wasn't interested in his diagnosis, not really, she just wanted to ensure that the man she was going to be living with and procreating with wouldn't attempt to kill her in her sleep because he had some delusions or something.
Opening the door, she was surprised to see Lestrange sitting up in bed, fully dressed.
"Granger," he nodded to her. "They are letting me out today."
Hermione smiled at him brilliantly, "Good. Are you ready?"
Lestrange nodded, seeming nonplussed that she was going to be with him for his discharge. A quick discussion with the dark-blond Healer that Hermione had never caught the name of and a side-along Apparition and she and Lestrange were home.
Despite having spent the previous two nights in the large house, Hermione did feel a little like it was home. She was never at her flat long enough to decorate it much, and with Tilly's help, she had fully unpacked in just a few short days.
Entering the home, they were immediately greeted by Tilly, "Master! Mistress! Welcome home!"
"Oh, Tilly, we aren't— that is… oh bugger," Hermione had no idea how to explain this to the little elf.
"Let her think what she thinks," Lestrange whispered into Hermione's ear. Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine at his words. She nodded though and allowed Tilly to guide them into the sitting room for tea.