Okay. I suck at updating, but my college preparations were more important. Sorry guys:( I'll still be writing and updating even when I'm at school.
Thanks to my reviewers, riaroo400 and Shinee's Hypeman... extra thanks because there were only two?
I hope this chapter makes up for the wait. It's just under 2,600 words, making it the longest yet.
On a really sad note, my friend and I were about to buy tickets to see Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 on Broadway over Christmas, and it would've been our first Broadway show and trip to NY. But alas, the show was cancelled. However, I highly recommend it.
Enough ranting. Here you guys go...
"Harry!"
Ginny hustled down the corridor to catch her boyfriend. He placed a quick peck on her lips before pulling back abruptly.
"You're disgusting," Harry Potter grimaced and pinched his nose shut.
His words were met with a playful glare and eyeroll.
"Quidditch captain you know," she responded. "Gotta practice just as hard as the rest of my team."
"And you couldn't shower because?"
Ginny's happy smile fell from her face as she remembered what made her rush out of the locker rooms so fast, just so she could talk to Harry privately before he went to Hagrid's.
"Hey," he cocked his head and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Are you okay?"
His concern was so genuine the redhead could feel it emanating from him.
"I'm fine. It's actually about Hermione," Ginny looked around to check that no one else was in the corridors. "She's been having nightmares again... she isn't sleeping well, mumbling about Malfoy and begging him to do, um something. I- I really don't know. But she leaves for tea every night. She told me she's fine, but..."
The raven-haired boy stepped away from Ginny and slapped the palm of his hand into the stone wall furiously.
"She was getting better! She told us she was doing better!" He practically screamed, as Ginny stood, arms crossed, waiting for his outburst to finish. "How come we all are moving past this and she can't? Why won't she talk to me, or Ron, or you?"
"Harry."
"We dump all our problems on her, and she never gives any of her own back. Do you know how long it took for her to tell us about her parents?"
"Harry," Ginny repeated louder.
"I've told her everything, and she helped me through it all, because she was there and she knows, and she helped. I know what she went through, and I can help her. We all c-"
"Harry James Potter," the fiery girl finally put her foot down, effectively silencing the irate young man. "Her nightmares are not coming from living in a tent with you and my brother. They are from being tortured. Nonstop. For weeks. You have no idea what she went through and neither do I, because we weren't there."
The Gryffindor boy looked suitably chastised, but Ginny Weasley plowed forward.
"We all agreed we wouldn't push Hermione to tell us things she doesn't want to, so don't you dare go trying to get her to share things she doesn't want you to know."
"Why do you sound like you know more than me?"
"Having shared a room with her, I have seen scars you haven't," she explained, thinking about one in particular.
It was along her right side, just below her breast and slightly to the side, and it wasn't a long wound, but had clearly been very deep, leaving a brutal scar behind.
"We all want to help Hermione, but maybe satisfying our own curiosity and trying to heal her all on our own isn't the best way to do it," the girl continued. "We don't know what she faced at the manor, and let's face it, we probably never will."
Harry sensed the 'but' coming.
"But we know someone who might," Ginny started.
"Who?" Harry answered his own question almost before it left his mouth. "Ginny Weasley! Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"You have to get him to talk to her. I think it'd help Hermione a lot," she defended herself.
"How do you even know he was there for any of it?"
The question was one last, probably futile, effort to dissuade his girlfriend from forcing him to go through with this terrible idea.
"Her nightmares are memories Harry, not alternate realities," Ginny said sternly. "You talk to Draco Malfoy, and get him to meet with Hermione. I'll fill in Ron."
"Could you talk to Malfoy, and I'll talk to Ron?"
"Malfoy sleeps three beds down from you, and Ron is my brother... so no."
Harry sighed wearily, but finally gave in. He hugged Ginny, ignoring her sweatiness and stink.
"I'll talk to him first thing tomorrow, right now I'm going to see Hagrid for some much needed peace."
"And I'm going to shower, and see if I can sell Ron on this idea."
Harry snorted as he walked away, imagining Ron's reaction when Ginny brought this bit of insanity up. He almost wished he could be there.
Almost.
Harry Potter wasn't able to talk to Malfoy until the following afternoon. It was Saturday, a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff quidditch game, Hogsmeade trip, and just a few days before Halloween. In simpler terms, the castle was in chaos, and finding someone who didn't want to be found was near impossible, especially since that someone was a Slytherin.
He'd about given up hope of finding the blonde, resorting to wandering the grounds aimlessly. So it was really by chance that he happened across Malfoy lounging against the willow on the shore of the black lake.
He was sitting under the shade of a large willow tree, with a few text books open, but no longer in use as the boy stared into the distance. An oversized black cloak kept a chilly breeze from reaching him, and the girth of the giant tree kept away the unwanted attention students paid him these days. While once Draco would have basked in the constant staring and whispers, now he only strove to blend into the fabric of the school and be ignored until this year was finally over.
"Can I help you Potter?" He spat, not even sparing a look at the approaching figure.
"Maybe stop being an arrogant arse for five minutes?" Harry answered, stopping a few feet away from Malfoy.
"No."
"I know you hate me, but you're kind of our last resort."
At that, Malfoy finally looked up at Harry with a scoff.
"And what exactly do you want?"
"It's Hermione-"
The moment her name left Harry's lips Malfoy's teeth clenched, and he slammed his books shut, piling them up carefully, all the while casting angry glances over at the Boy-Who-Lived. This was not a topic he wanted to discuss,let alone with Harry Potter of all people.
Malfoy stood, sneering over at his childhood enemy, his eyes so full of loathing it was indescribable. But only Draco himself recognized most of that loathing was directed at himself, not the so called savior standing in front of him.
"No. I'm done with her. I think she's been through enough because of me."
"She needs help, and Ginny thinks... we think you might be the only one who can provide that," Harry muttered.
"Right. After what I did-" Malfoy stopped talking suddenly.
He had noticed something off about the green eyed Gryffindor in front of him, namely how his eyes were alight with curiosity.
"She hasn't told you?" He laughed bitterly. "Not any of it?"
Harry shook his head.
"I should've known sooner," the blonde whispered, almost to himself. "If you knew what Bellatrix did to her, what I did to her... oh I would be dead and buried. No Potter, I won't help you. You say she's been getting worse? Probably because she's been seeing more of me."
"Malfoy-"
"No!" He practically yelled.
It took every ounce of strength Harry Potter possessed to swallow his pride and say in the barest whisper, "Please."
Malfoy turned away, bending down to gather his things.
"Hermione is doing worse because she can't confide in us- Ron, Ginny, me. She's ashamed to tell us what Bellatrix did to her, but you know."
"And I'm not to thrilled about reliving it, so go find her a mind healer and leave me the fuck alone."
"You know Malfoy. You were there, you can help her."
"What would you like me to do?" he spat sarcastically. "Bring her a bowl of soup? Give her a nice hug and make all the pain go away? Maybe we can have a reenactment of the day I almost..."
Harry clenched his fists at his side, simultaneously wanting to know what Malfoy had done that was so awful, and desperately needing his help.
"If you have so much guilt for what happened to Hermione, then you will be in the common room tonight," the dark haired boy was growing angrier by the second. "You'll be waiting there when she comes down for tea, and you are going to help her."
It took almost three minutes of the boys glaring at each other before Malfoy relented.
"I'll be there, but just this once Potter," he snapped.
Draco was unsure if he could even stand to see her without feeling sick.
"Let me be very clear Malfoy. I don't like you at all. But I do love Hermione, as do Ron and Ginny, or we wouldn't be going through with this ridiculous idea. So if you hurt her, I will kill you. This isn't about your conscience in the least, because I couldn't give two shits if you lived the most miserable life possible. This is about my friend who needs help."
Harry turned on his heel and marched away, his harsh words still echoing in the air.
Draco sat down, drawing his knees to his chest. He saw the terrible truth behind Potter's words. No one cared about Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy didn't deserve to be cared about. The boy in question had to say that he quite agreed with that assessment.
Day 16
Draco was ravenous by supper time, having spent the better part of the day trying to avoid his Aunt Bellatrix and ignore the screaming coming from two floors below his bedroom.
He ate with his parents, Aunt, and tonight three other Death Eaters. Two he didn't know, but one he recognized as Gregory Goyle's father. It wasn't until later, when Goyle Sr. broached the topic of their prisoner that Draco realized Granger had probably not eaten for days.
So in the dead of night, the youngest Malfoy stole into the kitchen for food and water and made his way carefully into the dungeons.
"Granger?" Draco whispered as he opened the door and slipped into the cold room, shutting the door softly behind him. "Lumos."
The Gryffindor moved away from him slightly as he approached her. The glowing blue light brought her wounds into sharp relief against her increasingly pale skin- the bloody lip, black eye, and long, but shallow cut down her neck, disappearing beneath her thin sweater. She looked worse than just three days ago when Draco had last seen her.
Her hair was still alive as ever, and clearly so was the fire inside her.
"Oh do come in," she snapped. "Maybe I should start charging a fee for everyone who wants to get a look at my dirty blood. Goyle senior, Bellatrix, your daddy dearest, and now you."
Draco ignored her jibe, setting a bowl of broth, hunk of baguette, and cup of water on the floor near her.
"When did you last eat?"
"Oh I see. Now you care how I'm doing? Or is this just some sick joke you're trying to play on me?" Hermione eyed the food suspiciously.
"It isn't poisoned if that's what you're asking," Draco answered calmly. "I'd be happy to take it back..."
He trailed off, watching panic fill Granger's eyes. They flicked between his face and the bowl on the stone floor.
"Five days," she whispered at last, moving forward further into the light and closer to her first meal in nearly a week. "Help me get out of here."
"This is the best I can do Gra- mudblood."
Hermione laughed aloud at him.
"You can barely say it," she observed. "Which means you can't think of muggle borns as inherently something less than you anymore."
"It doesn't matter how I do or do not feel about mud... bloods," he snapped angrily, choking on the last word. "I cannot help you, so eat the food, and shut the fuck up."
Hermione flinched as if she had been slapped, as his voice grew louder and louder.
"Granger," he said quieter, almost apologetically when he noticed her discomfort.
She held out her hands to him."
"Please untie me so I can eat then."
Draco looked down at her bloody wrists. They were bound tightly, so tight it was digging into her skin, her hands losing circulation, and it seemed the foolish girl had been trying to remove them for several hours, judging by the chaffing and blood soaking the ropes.
"I can't."
"Malfoy."
"No one can know I was down here," he seemed to realize that even as he said it. "You can't tell her Granger."
"I won't."
"You cannot tell anyone! Bellatrix will kill my mother if she knows I helped you. Fuck. This was a mistake."
He tugged at his blonde hair in distress while the brunette sat and watched him. She pulled at the ropes again, trying to create enough space to free just one hand. A moment later, Hermione's soft, pained gasp drew Draco's attention back to her.
"It's fine," she muttered, watching as blood began to flow steadily from her right wrist. "Tore through the skin is all."
When Malfoy drew his wand, Hermione felt her heart rate spike, unsure what he was going to do, but hoped that her observations were correct and that the Slytherin wasn't made for this life. Even after the ropes fell from her wrists, she was still nervous about his next move.
After a few minutes of starting at one another in silence, Hermione reached for the now lukewarm broth, dipping the bread in it, and savoring the taste of food. She ate slowly so as not to upset her stomach before drinking the first clean water she'd had since being captured. Usually her water supply came from the leaking wall that allowed pools of cool, but unclean water to form in the low points of the floor.
When she finished, she extended the rope to Malfoy who had been watching her the whole time from across the room.
"It'll have to be as tight as before to look convincing," Hermione rubbed her wrists, the broken skin painful and red.
"Granger-"
"No one is dying for me. Not my friends, not you, and not your mother."
Draco took the rope from her and wound it around her wrists.
"It needs to be tighter Malfoy."
He glanced up at her, trying to summon the will to pull the rope tighter, knowing it would only make her wounds worse. Hermione's hand touched his soothingly.
"It's okay," she said earnestly. "This is what we have to do to survive."
And, I think you can guess that next chapter is where Dramione starts to occur in the present day, so get ready!
Please, please, please review! I'm trying to get an update out before I leave for school Wednesday. If I don't, I honestly don't know when the next one will be because of band camp... next Monday probably.
I won't abandon this story! Promise! I love it too much.
Have a great rest of your summer, and I'll have the next chapter up ASAP!
