Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


"Harry, are you serious?" Hermione asked crossing her arms in frustration. She wanted to tug at her cloths, to tear her hair, but instead she stood rigidly.

"I just… I just can't do anything Hermione" Harry groaned tiredly rubbing his nose.

Hermione slumped down onto her suitcase and crossed her legs. She didn't know what to think, her mind was running frantically. "But…they've given my room away already" she spluttered.

"I know…I was sure you'd be out. But they said that technically you can't be released until they can mentally assess you, and you have to be mentally fit" Harry explained "Kingsley is trying to pull the strings, but unfortunately, you're not the first item on his list, and medical care trumps the ministry's decisions"

Hermione might have screamed had she not be in total shock. Her bags were packed, there was another person in her room, and she was now sitting on her suitcase staring at Harry Potter in utter disbelief. "Oh…" she sighed.

"You'll just have to go into one of the shared rooms for a while" Harry said apologetically.

"How long is a while?" Hermione asked with an arched brow.

"Four days, then you get your assessment" he promised.

Then the world imploded.

"FOUR DAYS! I HAVE TO WAIT FOUR DAYS FOR A MEDICAL ASSESSMENT! I SEE THE DAMN DOCTOR EVERY MORNING, WHY FOUR DAYS?" Hermione screamed startling a few nurses walking by. Harry flinched but kept his ground. She was taking it fairly well, he had been expecting much worse.

"I don't know why four days Hermione. I can only assume it's for the same reasons you've been here for months. Listen, Kingsley agreed to the four days. But after that he's pulling you out regardless of the law or not. He's told the heads of medicine he'll take the case to the Wizengamot if you aren't released. So all you have to do is endure four more days" Harry said with a frown approaching her.

Hermione jammed her finger in his throat threateningly, "Listen Harry, four days is the end. If I'm not out of here by Monday morning, you will seriously regret ever introducing yourself to me" she seethed.

Harry nodded and smiled; "Monday then" he repeated. He wrapped Hermione in his arms despite her protests and kissed her head loudly "When you get out you can help Ginny plan the wedding" he grinned before walking away from Hermione's excited squeals.


"I don't know Granger, your predicament does not daunt me" Draco sniffled, trying hard to not grin. She was ridiculous. Hermione's lower lip was sticking out dangerously far and her eyelashes were fluttering as though caught in a gale. Hermione did not work the feminine allure too well when she was intentionally trying. There was nothing flirty about her.

"Please!" Hermione whined placing her hands gently on his chest. Draco felt his skin tingle underneath his shirt; he retracted his earlier comment. Her fingers were barely touching him and he felt his guise breaking.

"How am I supposed to control myself with you around me, I am a man?" he asked with a raised brow.

"It's only four days" Hermione murmured looking at her feet. She had him in the palm of her hand. There was no way he would actually refuse her. Draco couldn't be so cruel to force her into one of those scary shared rooms. You never knew who you could end up with.

"I don't know" Draco frowned mockingly. Hermione would have to work for it; he wasn't going to just give in.

Hermione rose on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips, "Will you leave me homeless. Will I have to go next door to Adams and ask him if he will take me in?" she asked with a smile.

Draco laughed and pushed her away. "Alright, when you put it that way" he sighed grabbing her suitcase and dragging it into his room, "But I keep my bed, you can take the lounge"

"Right" Hermione said rolling her eyes, and knowing fully well she would be in his bed and he'd be on the floor.

"I mean it Granger, and don't think we can share…I'm not that kind of girl" he grinned back at her. Hermione snorted with laughter.


"What are you writing?" Draco asked leaning over Hermione's shoulder. She had been sitting at his desk for an hour scribbling something. She wasn't exactly distracting, but thoughts of her kept popping into his head as he attempted to read his book. Well…her book. Nonetheless, he didn't like being left out in the dark. Whatever she was writing it seemed to be coming out furiously, she barely paused at all.

Hermione covered the parchment with her arms; "You can't read it" she smiled softly to let him know she wasn't annoyed.

"Why?" Draco asked indignantly.

"Not yet, I'll let you read it later" Hermione promised.

Another whipping, another day. Hermione's knees were buckling again, but if she let go the chains would rip her arms out of their sockets. Not a wince, not even a small cry. The first time she had been whipped Hermione had sobbed and screamed, but after many more to come, she realized that her voice was pointless and screaming was exhausting

Hermione had yet to see her attackers. But she knew there were at least five. Different voices, different steps, different tactics. She had been chained to the wall for ages. How many days had passed, Hermione could not tell, especially due to the darkness of the chamber she was stuck in. So she counted the number of times she was visited. A week must have gone by at least

Her legs had cramped long ago and now they were just dead sticks. She had been standing for her whole time here. Her arms chained impossible high above her head, her face smashed against the stone wall. That was the worst punishment inflicted upon her. Eventually her legs would completely give and she'd end up breaking her wrists or dislocating her shoulders.

For now all she could hear were the grunts of the person behind her. And the fat sting of the leather coming down on her back. It was numbing. But she would never tell.

"Where is Potter?"

"Where is Weasley?"

"Where is the headquarters?"

She never answered even one. Coming into the order Hermione knew what the expectations were. And if she had to die in order to save Harry, well…that wasn't even worth wondering about. Harry's life was so much more important than her own, and she recognized that. Not to mention Hermione would never be able to forgive herself should she spill. So she shut her lips tightly and took the brunt of the pain.

"Oh Granger…you could go…if you wanted to. My love, all you need to do is to just tell me anything…anything at all"

His voice was muffled by a mask. But it was clearly a him, and it was such a familiar voice. But Hermione could not place it. Taunting and soft, the tone she used with Harry and Ron when they were being dense. Hermione could feel the smile in his voice, she was sure it was a handsome smileBut there was no reply

A cool hand ran under her shirt and across her back. Hermione couldn't help but wrench with pain. She gasped loudly and pressed herself to the wall to get away from the invading touch. The hand continued to move across her back, softly and sweetly, over her fresh wounds. "Hurts?" a rhetorical question.

A pair of gloved hands reached above her head to grab her arms. A moment later she found herself falling to the sweet ground. Her legs finally having given up, they shook underneath her.

Cradling her torn and bruised wrists in her lap Hermione ventured to look up. Masked, no surprise. She snorted loudly. The man crouched down on the ground close to her, "You know Granger…there are things worse than whippings and beatings. You can only smash someone's bones so many times before you realize it doesn't work" they paused and Hermione could feel the piercing glare from behind their simple black mask "How can I break you Granger?" they asked softly, again Hermione was sure they were smiling Whoever was behind the mask seemed awfully young, they spoke as though they were complimenting her rather than threatening. The words didn't fit.

Hermione felt a shudder run through her body, "How to break Gryffindor's beautiful virtuous child?" they asked. Hermione lowered her eyes, hoping that her dread wasn't noticed upon her face. Her whole body was aching, but not with the inflicted pain. Her body was aching for freedom, for survival, for distance from this person, she was aching to run. But she was frozen in her place. They were too close, a boundary was being crossed. She could smell their cleanliness, their cologne, the mint on their breath. She was overtaken with a jealous ire. Her body began to shake.

"Oh…are you scared?" they asked with a mocking tone. Hermione was absolutely petrified, but anger was swallowing her fear. Nothing was adding up in her mind. Nothing was making sense anymore. "You are…I can see it on your face. You may be strong now, but what about when it's not your life in question Hermione, what then?" then they stood and walked out of her cell swiftly. The door clanged loudly behind them. Hermione took in her surroundings. Black and lonely, she was alone…where were her friends?

Clutching her heart with her hand Hermione gasped for an unattainable breath. Everything was closing in around her. Her skin had broken out in goosebumps at the use of her name, but her brain had ceased to function at his simple question.

Hermione folded up the parchment and placed it with the rest of her papers in her bag, making sure to do all of this while Draco was in the washroom. Her trembling hands raked through her hair as she sat on his bed. It was just as bad to write the things than to say them.

The oddest thing though was that Hermione found herself writing in third person. Something about it made her feel distanced, it did not feel like her life. Instead it felt like looking down into a pensive, she had the control of her characters. It helped.

"You okay?" Draco asked coming out of the washroom and wiping his wet hands on his jeans. He could feel something was off simply by the curve of her spine. It was sloped downward.

"Yeah" Hermione replied softly, her eyes attached to the wall.

Draco sat down next to her and shared her gaze. The wall was not that interesting no matter how intensely Hermione was staring at it. He was secretly pleased Hermione would have to remain for another four days. It was a dirty thought, but he felt that while they were here things would be okay. They could connect.

What worried him was what would happen when she left. Would anything really continue? It was one thing to say it would, but when Hermione was bombarded with her family, friends, school…would she remember to owl him? Draco's heart pleaded to say yes, but his brain was far more rational. It was amazing just how many excused he could create for Hermione should she forget him.

"So…" he said unsurely.

"Draco…what was your father like?"

Her question startled him to his core. Hermione knew very well what his father was like. Why would she ask? "You already know" he replied guardedly. He didn't feel like going into the territory.

"I was just wondering how your life was with him…was he always a monster?" Hermione asked softly. There was no rudeness in her voice, but rather some bitterness that Draco could not place.

He didn't have the heart to leave her hanging. "For my whole life, yes he was a monster. My mother fell in love with him, so he must have been a good human being at some point. But when Voldemort came about…I don't think he was that awful yet. He didn't understand what he was getting into. He thought it was all righteousness, I don't think he realized the extent of Voldemort's philosophy. He didn't identify, but by the time he did…it was too late to get out. And frankly Lucius didn't care to leave the death eaters at that point" Draco frowned.

"What about at home?" Hermione asked.

"I don't remember much of my early childhood, but from the picture's I've seen I looked pretty happy with my mother and father…" he stopped talking. It was okay, Hermione knew what came next anyway. "Where do these questions come from?" Draco asked in a strangled voice.

A shrug of the shoulders, she was not going to answer him. It was remarkable just how tight lipped Hermione could be when the questions were directed at her. Where did it come from? What happened to the honest girl back in school who couldn't lie to save her hide? "Hermione tell me" Draco pleaded.

She shook her head, "I have nothing to tell you" she replied abruptly. Her voice was clipped and Draco could see the edges around her mouth harden.

"Nothing?" he asked in disbelief, and a touch of hurt.

"No…"

"Are you going to leave me like that?" he asked quietly, a small tremble in his voice.

"Leave you like what? Honestly Draco" Hermione said with a tinge of anger.

"Am I supposed to spew out all of my life stories and secrets for you to swallow up like the greedy bitch you are, and you won't tell me anything about yourself? You won't let me know who you are?" he asked heatedly standing up. His blood was pumping dangerously fast making him lightheaded.

"You know who I am" Hermione said evenly attempting avoiding his impending storm.

Draco stepped in front of Hermione and grabbed her shoulders tightly. She could feel his fingers digging into her flesh; suddenly everything felt so much more real, "No Hermione, I remember who you weremonths before. I don't know who you are now" he spat.

She looked up at him, unable to understand what he meant. "I…" she stumbled, unable to get her words out. His hands flew from her as though he had been slapped. The look on his face was terrifying. He was lost for thought, lost for words; he didn't know what to say to her. All he could do was shake with unreleased rage, his body trembling with fear of what he might do and later forget. Hermione watched sadly as his mouth opened and shut multiple times before he said anything.

"Hermione, do you honestly expect me to just forget it? I told you you're not forgotten. And I meant it in every possible way. I won't let this go. I won't let you go until you tell me what fucking demons you have! How the hell do you ever expect us to be together if you won't be honest with me?" he yelled. He was in a rage and he couldn't stop it, his desire for release was taking over.

"I can't tell you, you couldn't possibly understand!" Hermione cried jumping off the bed and standing dangerously close to him. She realized he could very well deck her should he chose to "You wouldn't understand what happened…"

"THEN HELP ME!" Draco screamed shoving her back down on the bed roughly "DON'T BE A FUCKING MARTYR HERMIONE! YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH ISSUES!" Draco took a shaky breath in, but he was unable to look at her offended and perplexed face. Hermione was not the victim here, if she couldn't trust him, he couldn't help her. He was the victim through and through.

"I…" Hermione didn't know what to say. Draco looked about ready to slap her silly. Hermione was overwhelmed with guilt; she hadn't realized how her silence hurt him.

"Help me" he repeated before turning from her. Draco stopped with his hand on the doorknob and spoke, but kept his back to Hermione, "So help me god, this will be the only time I'll ever walk out on you. But I just can't be here next to you…knowing that I can't help you, it kills me" his voiced waved for a moment, as did his resolve. But he left and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Hermione placed her head in her hands and cried.


Draco stood alone in the wheat field and stared at the eerie amethyst sky before him. The moon was large and pink, barely visible behind the cherry clouds. In all his years on earth, he had never seen such a beautiful but foreboding sight. The colours melted flawlessly, from the orange line right at the horizon that dissolved into the pink. But high above the sky was already black, stars just making their appearance.

He wanted Hermione, but if she couldn't tell him anything then he couldn't have her. He wouldn't have her. Draco didn't ask to know everything, if only she told him a single piece of information. If only she could have given him hope that someday he would know her fully. All he wanted was a morsel of hope. She wouldn't even give him that. He didn't want to get caught in the cycle.

How to stop himself from falling for her? It was impossible; he was already too far gone. He thought about her all of the time. Even though his thoughts of her were always upsetting and dark, Hermione was still on his mind. It hurt to feel so much for someone, and not receive anything in reply. Draco took her silence personally; he was no different than everyone else in her life then. Hermione had her own world and nobody was invited. Not even him.

If only he could have her vulnerable and honest. If only he could have Hermione's assurance that what he felt for her was okay, that it was right.

The confused sky above shaped a hunger in him that broke his body with desire. He dropped down on his knees but kept his eyes above. If he couldn't have all of her, then he didn't want her at all. He didn't want a mixture of colours. He wanted Hermione, and he wanted her cohesive and reliable.

"Draco?"

He didn't reply, how would she like that?

"Okay, I guess I deserve that" Hermione whispered quietly. He couldn't tell how far she as from him. But he could smell her, so it couldn't have been that far. "I want to apologize…" she began.

Draco snorted loudly.

"I deserve that too…Draco I didn't realize how much my silence affected you. I'm sorry…but you just don't understand. And what happened back in that room was proof" she explained.

Standing slowly Draco attempted to calm himself. He turned to face her; she was a meter away "What happened back in that room was your selfishness and absolute lack of trust for me" he muttered "I'm trying Hermione, I'm putting out for you, I expect something in return. You just don't trust me".

"I trust you!" Hermione cried stepping forward. Her arms were stretched wide; she wanted him to run to her. She wanted him to see that she was wide open.

Draco stepped back cautiously, "Prove it" he asked.

"I don't know how" Hermione replied silently. She was bathed in pink light, her skin shone and all he wanted to do was run from her. She smelt of strawberries but he didn't want to smell it. Draco wanted to run. Run far away and never look back.

"Tell me everything" he demanded.

"You know I can't…"

"Then I don't want you"

"What?" Hermione asked gently, her ears had misinformed her.

"Wake up Hermione. I don't want you if I can't have all of you. Why should I destroy myself for what appears to be a lost cause. You have everything you please, but you won't have me" Draco said finally.

Hermione stood in complete shock, her mouth open and her eyes wide. Fingers trembling at her sides, the only sign of betrayal her body dared show. "Alright" she replied coolly.

"Alright" Draco said.

They remained in place, staring at one another and waiting to see who would move first. Draco's eyes were narrowed, he was furious. He couldn't believe her; he couldn't believe she would give up without a fight. He didn't matter to her. He must have not mattered to her at all if she was going to let him walk away. But if Hermione decided that she wanted him to walk, he would.

"What are you looking for?" Hermione asked. Draco didn't reply, he just continued to stare at her. "You have everything you need, you have everything you ever pleased, but you just don't have me" Hermione whispered shaking her head. She broke and turned away first, shoving her hands in her pockets and walking back up the meadow.

Draco watched her walk away sorrowfully. He shouldn't have assumed it would last. Nothing ever did. Not for him. He always asked for too much. Hermione just couldn't give him what he wanted, she couldn't feed his desire to know someone fully.

Hermione stopped walking and bit her lip. Was she going to give up? It felt like she already had. Why couldn't she just tell Draco everything? Every time she tried she seized up, her brain froze and her eyes clouded with memories. He didn't understand. He didn't know… No matter how he tried he could never understand how guilty she felt. How filthy she felt when she remembered what she had given of herself. How much she had lost, and how much she had left back where her nightmares lay. Draco did not know many times she had obliviated herself in order to overlook that short chapter of her life. He didn't understand that she took dreamless droughts nightly to avert the terrors that plagued her. Draco could never understand why she had done the things she had. No matter how much he said he cared for her…he still would not understand.

It was not her selfishness; it was not her desire to be a martyr that kept her from opening up. It was the possibility of loosing so much more if she did.

Draco wanted to share in her pain. Hermione didn't ask for that. All she wanted was someone to help her forget. And for the few precious moments she held him she did forget. All she could see was the beautiful man in front of her. She turned around and saw Draco still standing in his place, gazing into the sky above. He was beautiful.

He infuriated her with his knowhow, his wisdom made her want to rip out his throat. His touch made her want to cry with delight, and his promises light a flame in her belly that was full of love. Draco did not know everything. But he wanted to. He wanted to know it all; no matter how much it hurt. He was the selfish bastard who only thought to make it easier upon himself. All that Draco Malfoy wanted was what the rest wanted; he wanted to know her mystery. She was another conquest for him. Draco wanted her pain, he could have it. For she longed to rid of it.

"I FUCKED YOUR FATHER!" Hermione screamed angrily at him. Her voice broke and her throat ripped with passion. Her body heaved with the force it required to sound the words. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth after the sound had faded; it continued to echo through the grass. The wind would blow the dirty words away eventually. But they would never be forgotten, oh no.

She heard him suck in a deep breath through his nose. His silhouette dark against the purple sky; Hermione could not even imagine what expression was on his face. She imagined she saw Draco nod before he turned away. But he turned away nonetheless and walked away from her. But this time, she could not cry.

Laughter bubbled from her lips. Tears sprang to her eyes; she was mad. Hermione was correct, but then again, Hermione Granger was always correct. In this case she had desperately wanted to be wide of the mark. How beautiful it would have felt to be wrong.

Why hadn't Draco stayed like he promised? Had he not promised her that he would not think any differently of her? Had he not said he thought she was beautiful, wonderful, kind… why was he leaving her when she needed him most? He had gotten what he wanted, and now it seemed he was done with her. That was it. It seemed that Draco's promises were worth just as much as her honesty. "You're walking out on me right now" Hermione whispered to herself, hoping he could feel her words.

Tears now fell when laughter had died, but tears could do little to soften the pain. She was alone with the truth and nothing else to protect her. It taunted her with her own disillusions.

And what a pathetic truth it was. Only a morsel of the whole truth. Only a chip in her wall of rotten bricks. The bricks were loosened with four ugly words.

Hermione crumbled.