Chapter Twenty-Five
Hermione opened her eyes gradually to get herself acclimated to the dim light inside the cabin. She'd been asleep for a while. Every muscle in her body was tense from lying in the same position for too long. She couldn't be sure how long she had been out. Fucking Alecto Carrow.
She carefully rolled herself over on her side to catch sight of a scene that made her giggle. Argos was still sleeping on the bed between her and Thorfinn. Her dog was facing her while being gently spooned from behind by the usually intimidating blonde wizard. Thorfinn had his arms around Argos and his cheek was nuzzling the top of the Saint Bernard's head. Hermione couldn't help herself from laughing even louder at the scene. Her mirth woke up both males in her bed. When Thorfinn realized he'd been snuggling with the animal, he kicked Argos out of bed. Hermione found his disgusted expression hilarious.
"Think that's funny?" he asked. "All that fluffy hair in my nose made me think he was you."
His indignant facial expression only made her laugh more. He watched her with a tilt of his head and a single raised eyebrow as she continued to laugh even harder. When she looked over at the floor to see her dog giving her an almost identical look, another round of giggles burst out of her mouth. It felt good to laugh after all the hell she'd been put through since the morning of Alecto's unexpected and unwelcome visit. Only the harsh reminder of her weakened lungs made her rethink her fit of laughter.
As she struggled to catch her breath, Thorfinn was sitting up in a second. He pulled her small body into his chest. With her back pressed up against his broad chest, Thorfinn encouraged her to take deep, slow breaths. Several minutes passed before she relaxed enough to breathe deeply. She hoped the side effects from Alecto's curse wouldn't last much longer.
"Are you all right?" Thorfinn asked, his arms still wrapped around her torso.
"I think so," she replied.
"Need anything, Princess? Food? Water? Sponge bath?"
Hermione snorted but stopped herself before she started laughing again. She elbowed the wizard, eliciting a soft chuckle from the man.
"No, thanks, but a shower does sound marvelous."
"I hit you with a few cleansing spells while you were out," he announced. "I don't allow smelly witches in my bed."
Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted once more.
"Where's the shower?" she asked.
Thorfinn pointed to a plain door next to the fireplace.
"I think you should take a bath instead," Thorfinn said. "You're too weak to stand alone in the shower unless you'd like me to shower with you. Personally, I don't mind assisting you in the shower if that's what you need."
Hermione rolled her eyes again and carefully climbed out of bed. She crossed the main room of the cabin towards the small bathroom. It became clear to her just then how much she must have annoyed Antonin when he was recovering from his injuries after the battle at Azkaban. She'd always known she had a tendency to be too bossy at times. Now she understood how obnoxious it could be.
She opened the door to the tiny bathroom. All it contained was a small shower that wouldn't have been large enough for two if she'd lost temporary hold of her sanity and took Thorfinn up on his offer to shower together. She turned around to ask him about the bathtub he'd insisted she use. Before the question of its whereabouts came out of her mouth, she witnessed her host transfigure the small dining table into a deep, copper tub with a flick of his wand. Thorfinn moved it closer to the roaring fire before filling it up with steaming water.
"It's ready now. Go ahead and get in," Thorfinn ordered, gesturing towards the tub.
Hermione laughed but didn't move any closer.
"No, you can step outside and stay out there until I finish," she retorted.
An impish smirk crossed Thorfinn's features. He stepped closer to her, effectively blocking any means for her escape.
"It's not like I haven't seen every square inch of your gorgeous body before, Princess. Actually, I'm fairly sure I've licked every square inch."
Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. Thoughts of their night together in the library flashed through her mind only serving to make the awkward moment even more awkward. More than once she opened her mouth to say something in response, but was never able to accomplish more than just an indignant sputter. Thorfinn laughed at her attempts. He conjured a large privacy screen around the bathtub before disappearing around the other side.
She wasted no time in pulling off her purple pajamas and sinking into the tub. The water felt amazing on her achy, tired body. She didn't even try to suppress the sounds of the contented moan that slipped out between her teeth. A quiet chuckle from somewhere near the bed confirmed her suspicions that Thorfinn was still paying attention to her. She looked down at the floor in time to see her dirty clothes disappear. Just as she was about to protest, a new set of clothing that was sure to swallow her whole appeared in their place.
Despite not wanting to agree that Thorfinn was correct about anything, Hermione had to admit that the bath was a good call. In only a brief few minutes she could feel her tension melt away. Just as she was growing more relaxed, Thorfinn's words about licking her body resounded within her brain. She opened her eyes and shifted so quickly within the tub that she sloshed water over the side.
"I thought we weren't going to talk about that night," she blurted out before she could stop herself.
"No, I never agreed to that," Thorfinn called out from the bed. "I said that we were going to need to discuss that night sooner or later. You said 'later'. It's later."
She lathered up with the soap he left by the side of the tub as a means to distract herself for a few minutes longer. He didn't seem in any rush to force her to talk. Hermione took her time in cleansing her body as the tension in the cabin seemed to grow in exponential leaps.
"Maybe I think it's better if we both forget that night ever happened," she finally said to break the awkward stillness.
"Nope, sorry, Princess. Not going to happen. That night has been forever burned in my memory. Yours too if I'm not mistaken. I can't imagine that either one of us will ever be able to forget."
He had a point. Damn it all, he had a point. She'd spent more time dwelling on her recollections of that evening than she cared to admit to over the past five months. Usually she would be suddenly struck by a heated moment, a hissed word, or an adoring touch when she least expected it. She was sure that it was due to the mass amounts of potions that were forced down their throats by Amycus Carrow that seemed to heighten the experience. Potions or not, it was the singular most passionate night of her entire life. How many times did snippets of her time with Thorfinn pop into her head when she was in the middle of being intimate with Antonin? Her cheeks burned with humiliation and just a tad of shame.
"We may not be able to forget that night," she continued. "But we don't have to talk about it. We both know that that never would've happened if we hadn't been drugged."
"'Never'? I disagree with you there, Princess. I think it was only a matter of time before we gave into our instincts and shagged the stuffing out of each other."
Hermione sputtered in an attempt to respond, but couldn't think of the right words. Or really any words to respond to his ridiculous notion that they were simply biding their time before the opportunity presented itself for them to lose control with each other. She seriously believed he'd taken one too many crucios in the service of his Dark Lord.
"You've got to admit that we've got chemistry, Princess. That has to be the hottest night of my life. I like to think about it when I'm all alone and need some tension release."
The sound of his laughter passed through the privacy screen and made Hermione roll her eyes yet again. She wanted to argue with him. Wanted to tell him that he was crazy and wouldn't know chemistry if it smacked him in the face. Unfortunately, she understood all too well what he was saying. There had been something there between the two of them. She would simply be lying to herself if she claimed that she didn't think he was attractive. She wondered if they would've felt the same way if there had never been a war, he'd run into her in Diagon Alley and remembered her as the girl who always seemed to walk in on him in compromising positions at Hogwarts. Would they have used their mutual past to parley that into a drink? Or several? Would they have gone on to dinner to share mildly amusing anecdotes of their lives in the years since she'd last walked in on him in a broom cupboard? Maybe ended up at his place or hers for an evening of welcome debauchery with no strings attached? Or would it have turned into something more?
Hermione shook her head in an effort to banish all of the thoughts that were suddenly plaguing her exhausted mind. There wasn't any point in wondering what might've happened between them if there had never been a war. There had been a war. To some, including Hermione herself, they were still living in the midst of one. Imagining what could have been was just a waste of time.
"Does it not bother you that that evening came about as a result of us being drugged?" she asked.
"Of course that bothers me!" His reply was vehement and she wondered briefly if he was struggling with the urge to rush to her side. "That is certainly not how I imagined our first time together."
Her curiosity piqued, Hermione couldn't help but ask the question.
"You were imagining us together before the night of Rabastan's party?"
"Fuck yes, I was! I think I've been imagining being with you ever since the night you and your little mates attacked Dolohov and me and you wiped my memories."
"You attacked us first!"
Thorfinn chuckled his deep chortle that made Hermione's cheeks grow even warmer.
"At first I think I just wanted to make you pay for the humiliation and the pain I experienced that night," he continued. "I won't lie to you, Princess. I pretty much thrived on hating you for a long time. I wanted to find you and make you pay in a series of uncomfortable and painful ways."
She didn't know how to respond to his confession. Somehow she didn't think any response was expected, so she just remained silent. She took her time washing the lather off of her heated skin in an effort to give the man the opportunity to finish his story with the benefit of the privacy screen between them.
"I'm glad now that I never caught you during the war. It would've been bad. When Antonin claimed you for his after the final battle, I was furious. It might surprise you to know that there is a code of honor amongst the Death Eaters. Once you were placed under his protection, all thoughts of me being able to find you and make you pay had to be put aside.
"Seeing you in the Wizengamot reminded me of my previous lust for revenge. You looked so broken and terrified that day. I won't lie, it plucked at my heart strings just a little. After I mocked Antonin a few times, I lost interest in your trial. I didn't want to see you looking so defeated any longer. That wasn't how I always remembered you.
"A lot happened between your trial and the night I saw you again at Rabastan's that first night. A lot of really awful shit that I'd rather not dwell on. When I saw you walk into Rabastan's dining room the night of the dinner party, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you. It seemed like you were back to normal. And then when we were alone in the library I still couldn't believe you were still in there. I thought you'd run away the second you realized I was in there."
"I almost did," she admitted. "But I decided it was my library and you weren't going to kick me out."
Thorfinn laughed and stopped talking for a few minutes. Hermione carefully rose from the tub to dry off with the fluffy towel he'd set next to the fireplace to warm. It felt decadent against her flushed skin. She took her time toweling off before slipping the much-too-large pajama pants and undershirt on. Thankfully the pants had a drawstring to prevent them from falling off at an inopportune time.
"You weren't intimidated by me that night. I liked it. Most women are," Thorfinn continued. "When our fingers brushed when I handed you the glass of fire whiskey, I felt a jolt in my gut. I wanted to kiss you so badly."
Hermione walked around the privacy screen, drying her hair off as she walked towards the bed. He was seated with his back against the headboard absentmindedly scratching Argos' head. Their disagreement earlier in the morning had been forgotten and Argos had been allowed back on the bed. She climbed up on the bed from the end, but didn't move up much further. At his confession of wanting to kiss her, she couldn't help but laugh. That had certainly not been the impression he'd given her that night.
"I thought you were disgusted that my Mudblood skin dared to brush against your pureblood skin," she admitted.
He laughed again.
"Princess, any time your Mudblood skin wants to brush against my pureblood skin, I promise I won't mind."
His wink set her laughing again. How he could be so perverse one second and make her laugh the next was something she had yet to figure out. Thorfinn Rowle was a riddle. If anyone else ever dared to speak to her the way he usually did, she would've hexed them or done something even nastier. Somehow he made his perversity almost seem charming. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't remain annoyed with him for very long.
"So yeah, I'll admit it. I've been having inappropriate thoughts about you for a long time," he admitted. "Saw you once in Hogsmeade the year Snape killed Dumbledore. I remember thinking that you'd grown up nicely."
"Thank you. I think that is least debauched compliment you've ever given me," she said with a snort. "I'm surprised you remembered me."
"The bossy little first year that had a knack for showing up right in the middle of my amorous affairs? Yeah, there's no way I could ever forget you."
"You were pretty unforgettable yourself."
His eyebrow raised and the impish smirk from earlier reappeared.
"Is that so? What do you remember most?"
"Don't get too excited," she admonished him. "Mostly I just remember walking up on you in the library."
"What sticks out in your mind about that?"
She could feel her cheeks begin to burn again. What was this man's special power that kept her continuously blushing?
"Well, if you must know, yours was the first I'd ever seen."
He stared at her strangely for a moment before the impact of her words made their mark. The moment he understood he started laughing until tears were pouring out of his eyes. Hermione felt a tiny bit indignant at his response in the beginning, but it didn't take her long before she was laughing right along with him.
"I'm so sorry, Princess," he said between bursts of laughter. "I ruined you from an early age. You must have gone through your life with an unrealistic expectation of what men carry in their trousers. Sadly, not every poor bloke has been gifted like I have."
Hermione crawled up to the top of the bed while he continued to laugh at her expense. She grabbed the pillow she'd been using for the length of her stay and with her still-limited strength, hit him in the face. Temporarily stunned by the pillow making its mark, Thorfinn stopped laughing. His cessation only lasted a few seconds. He deftly ripped the pillow out of her hands and sent it flying across the length of the small cabin. His resumed laughter was still ringing in her ears as she unsuccessfully tried to crawl over his legs to retrieve the pillow. She felt his large hands grasped her hips. In one swift motion she found herself straddling his lap and her face only inches from his. His deep blue eyes darkened. Before she could even imagine protesting, she felt his lips press against hers.
She would've liked to admit that she pushed him away the moment he kissed her, that she didn't allow him the liberty. Unfortunately, she couldn't admit to something that wasn't the truth. The moment his lips met hers she all but melted into the embrace. It felt familiar and even a bit comforting. They kissed as if they had been kissing for years instead of one debauched evening drugged up on illegal potions. She returned his fervent, experienced kisses until she couldn't breathe. Whether it was Alecto's curse that left her breathless or the practiced way his lips and tongue worked in tandem, she couldn't be sure. She finally had to push herself away to catch her breath.
"If you'd let me, Princess, I'd make sure you were always safe."
Hermione closed her eyes at his confession. She tried to will away the tears she could feel forming. His equally breathless and desperate admission left her more confused than she'd felt in a very long time. When she opened her eyes it was to meet his pleading, blue ones.
"Antonin is my protector."
The harsh, bitter laughter that choked out of his strangled throat was as different from the hearty, joyful laughter from earlier as Albus Dumbledore was from Tom Riddle. She didn't like this side of Thorfinn in the slightest.
"How many times has your Antonin almost gotten you killed, Hermione? Or better yet, how many times has he almost allowed you to be raped? You aren't stuck in this cabin with me because you wanted to go deer hunting or maybe spend a few days fishing. You were almost killed by that psychotic bitch because she itched for a shag from the wizard. He left you alone. If you were mine to protect, I would never leave you alone and defenseless and I'd curse anyone who dared to look at you strangely."
She wanted him to stop. She didn't need to hear his declarations or promises to keep her protected. As welcome as they might have once been, Hermione couldn't help but think that no matter what he said, he would never convince her to take his words to heart. She would never take him up on his offer to become his witch and live under his protection. It didn't matter that she often fantasized about that night even when she didn't wish to or that he had proven once again that his kisses were intoxicating. She would never be with Thorfinn Rowle for the simple reason that he was not the wizard she wanted. All thoughts of other men, wizards and Muggles alike, were pushed out of her head the night she made love with Antonin on the floor above Umbridge's restrained form.
"I do care about you, Thorfinn, but…"
"But you fancy yourself in love with Dolohov."
The words were flung in her face with abject bitterness and pain. Thorfinn pushed her gently off of his lap to enable himself to stand up. Apparently being in bed with the woman rejecting him was just a bit too much for the man to handle. Hermione couldn't blame him.
"Antonin is a bad man, Hermione," he announced. "He is dangerous and cold and he is damaged from all of the years he spent locked up in Azkaban. You can't hope to have any kind of normal life with him."
"I know he has a past."
"No, Princess, not past. This is his present and his future. He tries to hide his darkness from you. How can that be true and real love?"
"You're dark too! How many innocent people have you killed, Thorfinn?"
"My fair share. I'm dark, Princess. I may not always be this dark, but I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm willing to kill or be killed for what I believe in."
Hermione snorted in derision at his last comment.
"Oh, yeah? Pureblood supremacy?"
Thorfinn laughed and again, it was nothing like the warm laughter from earlier when Hermione struck him in the face with a pillow. This was angry laughter.
"Foolish cause of my misspent youth," he retorted. "Now I only care about one thing. Keeping the ones I love safe and I've done a terrible job so far."
He turned his back to Hermione, but was close enough that she could reach over to grasp his hand. Forgetting the ire that was still coursing through her, she tried to give him what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze.
"Reina is safe now," she reminded him.
Thorfinn turned back around and dropped her hand. He took one long look at her eyes before snorting.
"Yeah, no thanks to me. Even now she's being protected by my future brother-in-law while I hide like a coward in the woods. I'm sure that's the reason my sister brought you here. At least I can do my part to keep the only other person I love in this fucked up world protected."
Hermione was certain she misunderstood him. He couldn't possibly have just admitted to loving her, could he? As she replayed his words over in her mind repeatedly, she found that she couldn't ignore the truth. Somehow Thorfinn was convinced that he was in love with her. She would've laughed out loud if she didn't think the whole affair too bizarre and just a bit sad.
"You don't love me, Thorfinn," she said quietly.
"The hell I don't!"
His blue eyes danced with a fury that she'd rarely seen before. It was an expression that she knew would make his enemies staring down the wrong end of his wand nervous and fear for their lives. She knew his violent streak. Knew what he was capable of. Knew what he had done in the past. Sometimes it was hard to remember that the violent wizard who'd killed on the orders of Lord Voldemort was the same man that could make her laugh until she cried with a debauched and inappropriate one liner.
"You hardly know me!" she responded. "You're just in love with the idea of me. Obviously you want someone who challenges you and isn't afraid of you."
"Yes, just like you."
"No, no, you don't love me, Thorfinn. I think you're confused."
He resumed his pacing of the small cabin. It was obvious that he was gathering his thoughts, so Hermione thought it best that she wait to speak until he spoke next. While she waited, she witnessed him banish the privacy screen, evanesco her dirty bath water and transfigure the tub back into the dining table. Several long minutes passed before he returned to the side of the cabin where she was still sitting on his side of the bed.
"With all due respect, Hermione," he finally said. "I think you are the one who is confused about your feelings and who you love."
She didn't care for his implication that the feelings she had for Antonin were somehow not genuine. How could they not be? Not once in her admittedly short life had she ever felt the same intensity with anyone else that she felt with Antonin. All the man had to do was glance in her direction and she couldn't breathe. She'd been working hard to keep Antonin off of her mind the past several days because she was afraid that she would quickly lose her composure. Already she missed him dreadfully and would've rushed back to their cottage, dead, decomposing body and all, if it meant she could see him. She'd tried not to dwell on the fact that he would be coming home from a dangerous mission expecting her to be waiting at the front door only to walk in and find a dead Alecto Carrow in his place. What would he do?
"All right, Thorfinn. I will listen to you. State your case. Why do you believe that I cannot possibly be in love with Antonin?"
"You're a victim in all of this," he explained. "From the very beginning you were at his mercy. He asked for you from the Dark Lord because he said he had plans for you. When he finally caught you and was able to take you out of Azkaban, it's natural that you would develop some kinds of feelings for him. That doesn't make them genuine."
"So you think I'm some kind of victim of what… Stockholm Syndrome?"
"Is that the thing where they fall in love with their captors?"
She nodded.
"Then yes, that's exactly it. You're a victim of that. He took you in out of the cold and like a lost and scared puppy, you clung to the abusive master because it was better than being locked up in prison or at the mercy of someone like Walden Macnair."
"So you think I've got no more sense than a beaten puppy?"
"No! That's not what I'm saying."
He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated that he wasn't able to get his point across. Hermione got the feeling that this wasn't the first time he'd imagined having this very conversation with her. No doubt when he practiced it earlier he made a more persuasive case.
"Dolohov has manipulated you. Made you believe that the scraps he throws your way is all that you deserve."
"You don't know everything about my relationship with Antonin."
"No, I'm sure I don't, but let me ask you something. How many times after he's professed to care about you has he frightened you? Made you afraid to be in your own home?"
She didn't have to answer the question out loud. He could tell by the expression in her worried eyes all he needed to know. There had been several incidents that she'd been afraid of Antonin. Several nights she'd woken up from terrible nightmares with him playing the starring role only to face the startling realization that the monster from her dreams was the man comforting her. She would never forget the night he came into the library covered in blood. Or forget the fury in his eyes when he cut down Amycus Carrow. Part of her believed that he would've killed Thorfinn and likely her too if Reina hadn't been so quick with the shield charm.
"You're not in love with him. How can you love someone that disappears at night only to come home reeking of the blood he'd shed? How can you be in love with someone who terrifies you?"
She couldn't meet his eyes. These were questions she'd asked herself already a hundred times. She didn't need another voice parroting them back to her to give her another perspective. She loved Antonin. At some point in their crazy, messed up relationship she'd fallen for the taciturn wizard. Part of her resented Thorfinn for daring to call her feelings into question.
"Sometimes you terrify me too, Thorfinn."
It was spoken in a whisper, but she didn't need to raise her voice to get her point across. Thorfinn stormed out the door of the cabin. The door slammed shut loud enough to make Argos jump and whine. Hermione lay back down in the bed and sobbed into Thorfinn's pillow.
He didn't return to the cabin for several hours. Hermione woke up from yet another nap when the door opened. Thorfinn came walking in silently with a couple of market bags in his arms. Their eyes met across the cabin, but neither had anything to say to the other. Hermione simply rolled over back to her side of the bed and tried to sleep some more. She was grateful for the potions that he forced down her throat without a word. At least then she didn't have to pretend to be asleep to ignore the uncomfortable silence permeating the entire building.
Some time in the middle of the night she woke back up when her potions wore off. The lamps were all out and the fire was burning low in the grate. Argos was asleep in front of the fireplace. She carefully rolled over to see Thorfinn wide awake lying next to her. His eyes were open and his right arm was thrown above his head. It was obvious that he'd been lost in his own thoughts.
"Thorfinn?"
Snapping him out of his thoughts, Thorfinn turned to his side to face the woman who'd obviously hurt him badly only hours before.
"Can I tell you something?"
He supported his head using his left hand to see her better.
"Of course," he answered.
"In my fifth year I created a cursed parchment for Dumbledore's Army. Anyone who signed it and then told about our group would be cursed. One of the girls told Umbridge and the word 'Sneak' was written across her face in giant pimples that she couldn't get rid of. Without the counter curse, she'll be stuck with them for ten years."
He stared at her strangely as if he weren't quite sure how to respond. Before he could think of any inanity to fill the silence, she started again.
"And in my fourth year I found out that Rita Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus. She had been writing nasty stories all year about Harry and about me. When I realized she was a beetle, I trapped her in a jar of unbreakable glass. I kept her in that jar for a few months and only released her after she promised not to write another story about Harry for a year or I'd report her to the Ministry."
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked softly. "As amusing as these stories are, I don't understand."
"Want to know why Dolores Umbridge hates me so much? Why I was willing to crouch behind a bush at Rabastan's party to avoid her?"
He nodded his head. It was barely noticeable in the dimness, but she understood.
"In my fifth year she caught Harry breaking into her office to use the Floo. Several of us in the DA were trying to be lookouts in case she showed up, but we were caught by her fucking Inquisitorial Squad. When she had us in her office, I had to tell a lie as to why Harry was using the Floo. He was trying to contact his godfather Sirius Black and he was still wanted by the Ministry. I lied and told her that we were trying to contact Dumbledore to tell him that the weapon he made us build was ready in the Forbidden Forest.
"She forced Harry and me to go to the Forest at wandpoint. The centaurs were restless and angry with the humans. We'd already been warned once before when we went out into the forest with Hagrid. The centaur herd showed up and after she made some really insulting remarks and tried to use magic on them, Umbridge was dragged off into the forest. I knew, I knew what centaurs were capable of, what they did to captured human women even before I made her come with us. I knew they wouldn't hurt Harry and me because we were young, but I knew that if they caught her, they'd drag her away to rape her. It didn't stop me from forcing her to come."
Hermione didn't realize she was crying until Thorfinn reached over with his right hand to brush her tears away. She closed her eyes at the gentle contact. When the tears were wiped off, he moved his hand to her shoulder to lightly run his fingers up and down her upper arm.
"If I tell you something else, do you promise not to repeat it?" she asked.
"Who am I going to tell? Argie?" he teased with a smirk.
"Promise me."
"I promise."
"I helped kill Umbridge."
Thorfinn exhaled enough to make a light whistling sound with his breath. Whatever he was expecting her to say, that certainly wasn't it. She was a woman of many surprises.
"She Crucio'd me in the Ministry holding cell," she explained. "Made Antonin furious when I told him later. She threatened to kill me the night of the Umbridge Home raid. Antonin kidnapped her and took her to our cottage. We took turns torturing her. Or really, I guess he just slapped her a few times. I was the one who crucio'd her and carved words into her entire body with a single spell. Antonin was simply the one who finished her off when I couldn't."
His hand moved back to her face to brush away the renewed tears.
"Why are you telling me all of this, Princess?" he asked again.
"Once when I was seven a girl at school made fun of me for being weird. I set her hair on fire. No one knew how I did it and they couldn't prove I'd done anything, so I didn't get in trouble. But she and I both knew that it was something I did."
Hermione rolled over to face the wall and turn her back to the wizard. His hand dropped off of her shoulder at the movement.
"You and Antonin aren't the only ones that have darkness inside of them."
It took almost a solid week before Hermione felt more like herself. At the very least she no longer got winded just by laughing at something terribly perverse that Thorfinn said. Neither of them spoke about the conversations they had the day she woke up. Hermione thought it was silly that they were actively trying to ignore what passed between them. She knew it would only be a matter of time before they had another big blow up. They were two passionate people stuck in a cramped location.
"I want to meet with the Resistance," she announced over breakfast.
Thorfinn dropped his fork. The glare he shot in her direction told her without words how he felt about her idea.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"I've decided that I can't stay hidden in this cabin forever," she said. "I should be doing something."
"You don't want to run off and join the Resistance, Princess. I assure you. They probably wouldn't want you anyway."
She knew that he wasn't trying to hurt her feelings, but his words still stung. That was exactly the fear she'd been trying to ignore ever since she heard the rumors that Calliope told Reina.
"Why wouldn't they want me?" she asked, trying to hide the petulance that was seeping into her tone.
"You've been tainted," he responded with no preamble.
"Tainted?"
"You've spent the past eight months living with known Death Eaters. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but many of your uptight, do-good Gryffindors are probably not going to trust you."
Hermione didn't want to hear anymore. She knew he wasn't wrong. Pushing her plate across the table, she stood from the table. Thorfinn watched her actions, but didn't move to stop her until she laced up the boots Reina had brought a few days earlier with some other clothing that actually fit her frame better than Thorfinn's pajamas. She picked up her wand, whistled to Argos and stepped outside.
She made it about ten feet past the enchantments surrounding the cabin before Thorfinn was outside. Ignoring his protests to return, she raised her wand to cast her patronus. She paused for a few moments trying to decide the best person to contact. Finally, she decided to send a message on to the eldest of the Weasleys with a request to meet.
"I still think you are setting yourself up to get hurt," Thorfinn said.
Only a few minutes passed before the quiet of the forest was interrupted by a silvery stampeding bull. The large animal ran straight towards Hermione. If she hadn't understood the properties of the patronus charm, she might have been frightened by the glint in the bull's eye. When it stopped just inches in front of her, she was relieved to hear Bill's voice.
"Hermione, meet me at Tower Bridge in London in fifteen minutes."
She couldn't stop the tears that rolled out of her eyes as the patronus dissipated into thin air. He actually wanted to see her! And he didn't make her wait for hours to respond. Argos pawed at her leg, reminding her that he was still there. Hermione cast the lightening charm on the dog and gleefully picked him up. Following the canine saving her life she wasn't planning on going anywhere without him.
"You shouldn't go alone," said Thorfinn, annoyance dripping from his words.
"I won't be alone. I have Argos," she replied.
"You won't know how to get back here. I'm coming with you."
He grasped her arm and Apparated them to the south side of the bridge. Hermione was angry at first that he'd taken the liberty to Side-Along her without her permission, but the excitement in only being minutes away from seeing a beloved member of the Weasley family made her forgive him far easier than she ordinarily would have.
It was a good thing that they were surrounded by Muggles because the sudden arrival of Bill Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt could've meant Thorfinn's death otherwise. Both men had their wands out and pointed in his direction as subtly as possible.
"What is he doing here, Hermione?" Bill demanded, nervously looking around them to make certain no Muggles could see his outstretched wand.
"That's, of course, assuming she even is Hermione," Kingsley replied, his tone cold and distant. Nothing like the warm, honeyed tones she was used to hearing in Grimmauld Place.
"Of course it's me, Kingsley!" she protested. "Ask me anything."
"Who did we disguise Harry Potter as at my wedding?" Bill asked.
"Barny Weasley," she answered without a second thought. "One of the twins I think stole some hair from a Muggle in the village and he drank Polyjuice potion to pretend to be one of your cousins. Your uncle even tried to take him home when he got too drunk and thought he was his son."
Bill's shoulders sagged just a little with the answer. He lowered his wand long enough to pull the young woman into a hug. She clung to the man as some kind of connection to her past that no longer felt as if it were a part of her life. When they broke apart she saw Kingsley still pointing his wand at Thorfinn. The Death Eater had his empty hands out, proving to be at least temporarily unarmed.
"I'm going to ask you again, Hermione," Bill began. "Why are you with Rowle?"
"I got into a little bit of trouble and Thorfinn has been taking care of me. He's in hiding too."
Kingsley actually snorted at her explanation. It was obvious that the former auror didn't believe a word she just said.
"This smells like a set up," he whispered to Bill though not quietly enough for the other two to not hear. "He cannot be trusted. He's Marked. You Know Who can track him through his arm."
Thorfinn pulled the sleeve of his left arm up to his elbow. His Dark Mark glowed light blue. Hermione realized for the first time that the entire week she'd been staying with him, she'd never seen his left arm uncovered.
"It's a stasis charm," he explained. "Lucius and my sister figured out a way to charm it so I can no longer feel any summons and so the Dark Lord cannot find me through the Mark."
Argos pushed through the little group to sniff Thorfinn's arm. His appearance seemed to surprise the two Resistance leaders but neither said anything. They didn't seem ready to trust the glowing charm.
"If it would keep Hermione safe, I'd cut my arm off," Thorfinn said, the sincerity in his tone evident to Hermione at least.
Kingsley turned away from Thorfinn to stare at Hermione. She noticed the changes that had taken place in her former comrade's appearance. The loss of the war had not been kind to him. His clothes hung off of his formerly muscular frame. Deep bags under his eyes spoke of a man who didn't get enough sleep.
"Why did you request a meeting?" he demanded.
"I want to help," she answered simply.
Bill and Kingsley stepped aside for a few minutes to speak in hushed tones. Hermione shifted from foot to foot in anticipation of what they would finally say when they returned. Minutes felt like hours. When they returned, she practically jumped on them to learn their decision.
"Kingsley and I are going to meet with some of the other leaders," Bill explained. "We will be in touch."
Both men walked away moments later disappearing in a crowd of Muggles.