Nothing pertaining to the wondrous world of Harry Potter belongs to me, despite countless prayers.

Hold on to your hats, duckies, we've got a long one here!

Stay tuned for the Author's Note, please.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Haunting and Healing

"Don't want to live in fear and loathing,

I want to feel like I am floating,

Instead of constantly exploding

in fear and loathing..."

Fear and Loathing-Marina and the Diamonds

Hermione sat up slowly with squinted eyes, almost afraid to open them, afraid of what she might see. There was warmth all around her. Warmth, not cold, and she shivered as she felt it seep into her body. The sunlight was so strong in the room the moment she fully opened her eyes for a fleeting second she panicked, thinking she had gone blind, but at last her vision cleared and she remembered where she was, how she had gotten there.

The room was small and quaint, rosy-colored and soft-looking in every aspect. It was such a stark contrast to the elegant rooms she had been so used to seeing whilst in captivity, it took a moment to let it all sink in. There was movement at the end of the bed she was in and snapping back to herself, she turned quickly to see who her company was.

"It's alright, dear," came Mrs. Weasley's kind, soothing voice. Warm, worn hands took Hermione's and held them gently. "It's alright. You're fine now; no one's going to hurt you anymore."

Relief in its purest form, great and overwhelming, was what Hermione felt then and not quite knowing what she was doing, smiled, nodding for a second before it wavered and she collapsed into tears. Tears of joy, of rage and sadness leaked from her eyes and she held her hands to her mouth to hide her incredulous and horrified smile.

Mrs. Weasley hurried to her side immediately and held Hermione to her chest in a motherly fashion, trying to hide her own upset.

"Th-th-thank you," Hermione sobbed. "I'm sorry, so sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Mrs. Weasley scolded gently. "Whatever happened to you was not your fault. But you need more rest, dear. There will be time to talk when you wake."

Hermione nodded again, and accepted the vial handed to her, sipping at it carefully before downing the rest. At once the power of the Dreamless Sleep Potion took hold of her and Hermione fell asleep.

Mrs. Weasley leaned over the bed to right the quilt that had fallen down into Hermione's lap when she had woken, and pulled it up gently to cover the sleeping girl. Something gave her pause before she did so; she stared at the young witch before her and wondered exactly what she had gone through to warrant such hysterics upon being told no harm would come to her.

Where had she been all this time? With whom had she been? Molly recalled Minerva's letter from months ago, and came to the conclusion that she had not been told the whole story. She looked at Hermione again, reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks, and smoothed her hair away from her neck and shoulders when something caught her attention.

A silvery scar, bordered by pink on Hermione's shoulder glowed in the sunlight. Molly would have dismissed it as nothing but her senses were still sharp after forty years so she looked at it more closely, and paled when she realized it was a bite mark.

Concern rose inside her-who had bitten her? Was it a werewolf bite? When had this happened? No, it couldn't be a werewolf bite-the spacing of the teeth marks, the shape itself proved it was made by a human, though whom could be so terrible as to leave that mark on another was beyond her. There was another scar, too. On the inside of her arm, an ornate M could be faintly seen. It was too fine and well-done to have been done with a knife. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Molly's gaze landed on Hermione's face-troubled even in sleep. Horrible ideas were creeping into her mind, ones that she wished never to associate with anyone she cared for, but she could not deny them.

She had not medically inspected Hermione once Arthur had brought her in-everyone had been shocked at the sudden arrival, and they all guiltily wondered how long she had been waiting outside their door, too weak to even call for help. All obviously visible wounds had been treated-the cuts and severe scrape on her elbow, the cut lip and bruised cheek, but nothing else. News had been sent to the Order, to Minerva and they all debated on whether or not her appearance should be told to the Daily Prophet. They had decided to keep it quiet, at least until the Ministry and the Prophet were back in order. Someone had been sent to find Hermione's parents. The twins and Ginny literally had had to fight off Harry and Ron, who were hell-bent in seeing their best friend. Charlie, being the strongest of them all, had been stationed at the door to make sure she was not disturbed until she was ready to see anyone besides Molly.

But now, she supposed it was time. Molly hesitated, wondering if she should wait to get permission from her charge, but decided she had much better do it now. The girl could have internal injuries and be dying from them for all she knew! Molly cast one last, troubled look at the sleeping witch and braced herself. A sense of foreboding had come over her suddenly, and she knew whatever she would find would not be good.

Molly put down her wand with a shaking hand, suppressing her tears, and with extra care she tucked the quilt around Hermione. That horrid scar on her shoulder peeked at her from under a thick strand of Hermione's long hair. Molly had tried several spells to make it fade away but none worked. It was as if the giver of the mark had wanted it to scar that way so everyone could see it. Again, Molly wondered who would do such a thing. Regular, loving bites were not unheard of, of course. But this was the opposite. This was a savage bite in the way it had been administered, not loving in the least. There was a very slim possibility that it might have loving, or that it was something Hermione liked, but what else Molly had found on Hermione's body had said otherwise.

She had found and tended to two cracked ribs on Hermione's left side, and had worried about a punctured lung, but further spells showed no such damage. Bruises that she had not found before were found, worse than the ones on her face and arms. These were instantly healed, and faded to green and yellow, still unsightly but much better than the original black and purple. The predominant bruises took up all of Hermione's right side, spreading from below her breast to her hip, marring her body like splashes of ink on a pure canvas. Her bleeding lip had been mended easily, but that, coupled with the signs of hair pulling and the strain on her throat gave Molly leave to suspect a Cruciatus had been used on the girl, which made her heart constrict.

Molly had forced herself to check lower down, remembering that there were other forms of torture in which magic was not needed. She brought to mind her lessons in Healing, from before she had met Arthur, and found what she had desperately wished would not be there. Signs of trauma and forced entry were evident. Tears in the flesh that had been healed, but the scars still showed. Molly worked as carefully and gently as possible though she knew the girl would not wake, she consciously made effort to not discomfit her any more than she already had been. Even though asleep, Hermione's body seized up and jerked away slightly, she frowned more deeply in her sleep, and that was all Mrs. Weasley needed.

As she pulled off her gloves Mrs. Weasley fought to contain her tears. Who had done this, and why? She was only a child, barely entering adulthood! Hermione should have been in her care when she had gone missing-how would she explain this to Mr. and Mrs. Granger? This was a nightmare come to life for Mrs. Weasley, who over the years had come to see Hermione as a daughter just as much as Harry felt like a son to her. Whoever it was, Molly strongly suspected it was the person to whom the ring belonged that Hermione wore on her hand. Deep, raw scratch marks had torn the skin of the back of her hand where the ring was; as if in a fit of delirium she had forgotten she could slip the ring off. Correctly guessing Hermione wanted it off, the elder woman had tried to remove the expensive piece of jewelry, but the thing refused to come off. Molly had no doubt it was charmed to stay on; it grew hot as she tried to pull it off and she shivered-the ring itself felt malevolent, dangerous. Part of her wanted to get Arthur to summon a Curse Breaker to see it, but she would not do it until Hermione woke.

Deeply unnerved and upset, Molly quietly left the room, only to realize her mistake. Harry and Ron stood nearby, apparently waiting to be let in, but once they caught sight of her they rushed forwards, all impatience.

"How is she?" Harry asked.

"We have to see her, Mum," Ron said over him.

"She needs to rest," Mrs. Weasley replied, trying in vain to recompose herself.

"Is she okay, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Mum, why are you crying? What's happened to her?"

"That's enough, boys!" Mrs. Weasley said severely, stunning them into silence. It was an impressive feat. The boys stood several feet above her and yet she always managed to cow them with her temper, as rarely as it happened. "You'll leave her alone until she says she wants to see you. She's still healing and needs her rest and will only become agitated if you run in there babbling away. If I so much as see you two near this room again until she's called for you, I'll send you to stay with Aunt Muriel. Understood?"

The boys nodded mutely, cast twin worried looks at the door, and departed. Molly sighed, and pressed her knuckles into her eyes.

"Alright, mum?" Charlie asked, coming forwards from his position at the door.

"Yes, yes, dear," Molly waved him away. "Have you seen your father? Has there been any news on Hermione's parents?"

"He's not back yet. There's been no news yet."

Molly nodded, and suddenly embraced her son tightly, who looked down at her in surprise before hugging her back.

"I'm going to go to bed," she said. "Have Ginny come get me when Hermione wakes, please."
"Yes, mum."

Hermione didn't wake until late in the evening. The family had all sat themselves down to eat dinner Harry and Ginny had prepared together while Mrs. Weasley slept. Not much was eaten, however. The table was almost silent save for the sounds of them moving about. Fred and George kept mostly silent and to themselves. Charlie had had to leave due to work reasons earlier. Arthur was working double-shifts at the Ministry, and would not be home until morning. Harry and Ron were restless and almost hostile as they waited for the final part of their trio to wake.

"Can we at least go check on her?" Ron asked. "She might need something-we could bring her some food."

"Stay in your seat, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said. "I'll bring it up to her."

"Please, there's no need," came a quiet, timid voice from the entrance to the kitchen. They all turned at once, and immediately burst into action.

Harry and Ron reached her before anyone else. Ron pulled her into a bear hug, the kind he reserved just for her and Hermione laughed through her tears as he put her down, overjoyed that he was unharmed and alright. She had feared he had died as well in the battle, but here he was, strong as ever. Someone else came forward as she turned away from Ron, and her eyes followed Harry's movement, not quite registering who it was, but he came to a stop before her and her round, incredulous eyes took him in.

What little colour she had regained since arriving fled her complexion; her mouth gaped and she felt her knees give way underneath her again.

Harry caught her before she reached the ground and crushed her to him in an embrace so tight Hermione had trouble breathing. The others gathered around but Hermione only had eyes for Harry. Hot tears blurred her vision but it was undeniably him, her Harry.

Her hands clasped his as tight as her muscles would allow-it was real, he was real, but how? This could not be. Was this all a dream? Harry was dead; she had heard the victorious cry of Voldemort as he announced her best friend's death to the world. What had she missed while Draco snatched her away again?

Hermione broke down in Harry's arms. She had thought she had finished all her crying before; but she had been wrong. It felt like she would never stop crying and she hated it, but she let the tears fall regardless. Futilely blinking his own tears away, Harry cupped the back of her head and tucked her head beneath his chin, pressing kisses and soothing whispers onto the top of her head. Hermione shut her eyes tightly, embarrassed and slightly afraid to look them all in the eye.

"Y-you were d-dead," she gasped, cupping his face between her palms. There was his scar, familiar and permanent. The good green eyes she had missed so. "I heard Vo-him say it."

"I know," Harry said, letting her dazed eyes pierce into his, asking hundreds of questions he would answer later. "I was dead, but I came back, Hermione. It was the Horcrux inside me he destroyed-you knew about it, didn't you?"

Hermione nodded, breathing erratically through a suddenly stuffy nose. "I thought I was too late-I thought I would never see you again."

Mrs. Weasley fluttered about, scolding them to leave her alone, that she needed space and they had to be careful, for Merlin's sake! The twins smiled, comforting Ginny, who still felt guilty for not having kept a better eye on Hermione after the Yule Ball of the year past.

"We've been so worried," Harry whispered to her. "I'm so sorry, Hermione, please forgive me-none of this would have happened if we had taken you with us, we-I was so stupid."

Hermione could think of nothing to say-it felt like she had forgotten how to speak. She clung to Harry as the room spun around her and vented her sorrow. Upon Mrs. Weasley's request they both stood and made their way to the table. Hermione extracted herself from Harry's arms and allowed Mrs. Weasley to sit her down at the table, where a bowl of hot soup had been served for her.

"Have something to eat, dear," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "It will do you good."

Hermione nodded, brushing away her tears. Her face burned red as she reached for a spoon. Harry and Ron sat themselves beside her and before the calm returned Ginny swept in over Hermione, who jumped as the ginger embraced her.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Hermione," she said shakily. Hermione gave her friend a watery smile and squeezed her in return before Ginny resumed her seat.

"No more of that until after she's done eating," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "Let her alone for now, she's been through enough."

Hermione did not feel all that hungry but she forced down the soup anyway, wincing slightly as it burned her still-sore throat going down. They watched her anxiously though they pretended not to, all except Mrs. Weaseley, who went on as if nothing was amiss. Hermione understood the woman was trying to help her become at ease, and was immensely grateful. Spoonful after spoonful was gulped down and when there was only a tiny portion left in her bowl, Hermione put down the utensil, feeling better than she had moments ago. Harry held her free hand with both of his, stroking her dry skin softly.

"If you'd like, dear, we can speak in private if you're uncomfortable."

Hermione was again grateful to Mrs. Weasley and nodded, shooting a look of apology to the rest, who understood and smiled back as reassuringly as they could. The twins pressed her hands and expressed how glad they were she was safe. Ginny hugged her again before leaving, and Ron and Harry were rising to leave as well when she shook her head at them, beckoning for them to stay.

Once the four of them were alone Mrs. Weasley led them all back to the table, which had been cleared with magic, save for a few cups of tea and some slices of bread and butter, which were laid out before Hermione.

"Are you feeling much better, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you Mrs. Weasley."

"If you do not want to talk now we will understand."
Hermione held her tea cup before her, staring down at it intently.

"Please, have my parents been found?"

"Tonks and Mad-Eye have been sent to search for them," Ron said. "The Order knows you're here, but we haven't told anyone else. We felt you might not want that."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you."

"Hermione, if you don't want to talk about this we'll leave if that'll make you feel better," Harry said, motioning to himself and Ron.

"No," Hermione said. "Stay."

"Whenever you're ready, dear," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "Take your time."

They waited patiently, bravely as Hermione gathered her nerves and sipped tiny little sips of her tea, urging herself not to cry again.

"After the Yule Ball last year," she began quietly, "I finished cleaning up with Neville and came back to my dorm. I found your note," she told Harry, the corners of her mouth turning slightly downwards. "I panicked. I was furious you'd left me behind; I knew you would need me when you left. I realized you had been lying to me since the attack at Hogsmeade-I was angry, I was frightened and upset-I ran after you."

The memories played out in her mind's eye as she recounted them. Harry and Ron stared at her intently, eyes tight with the guilt of leaving her, with the knowing of what was coming next. Mrs. Weasley listened in silence.

"I remembered where we had planned to Apparate once reaching Hogsmeade-I snuck out of the castle and made my way there in the snow." She swallowed hard. "I didn't realize someone was following me."

"I made it almost to the clearing, I could hear your voices but before I could reach you someone pushed me down. I knocked my head against a stone and the last thing I saw was Filch Apparating me away."

Shock showed on all three of her companion's faces. Their questions were spoken over each other.

"Filch?" "Are you sure?" "Why was he following you?"

"I'm convinced he was under Dra-Malfoy's control," she explained. "Most likely under an Imperius. He was probably following me around in Hogwarts."

"What happened to him?"

"That was the last time I saw him. I assumed he went back to Hogwarts."

Hermione seemed hesitant to continue; Harry reached out and held her hand. The small act gave her enough strength to continue.

"I awoke in a strange room. I didn't know where I was or who had taken me until I saw something that proved it was Draco."

"What was it?"

"A replica of a stained glass window I was fond of at Hogwarts. Only he knew I liked it enough to think I would appreciate having one for my own."

"I knew I had to escape. The only way out was through that window, everything else had been warded off and locked. I broke it and jumped outside. It wasn't so high up, but I hurt myself in the process. I didn't know where I was but I ran away, thinking I might find somewhere I could ask for help. I didn't think to Apparate, but the wards there would have prevented me from doing so anyhow."

"Did you recognize anything at all?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Hermione shook her head. "It was cold out but there was no snow. There were trees everywhere, everything was green but it felt like Autumn was just starting. There was a shout and I knew it was him." She looked away. "He came after me."

She could feel the cool, sharp grass under her feet again; the burn in her lungs as she gasped for breath, could still hear the rapid footfalls of the man who chased her.

"I entered a field of lavender. I thought I had lost him but he caught up and pushed me down." Hermione pulled her hand from Harry's and let it join the other in her lap. They caught onto each other and twisted fingers anxiously.

"He said I was his and hit me when I refused. He had put the ring on me while I was asleep and said he had used old magic on it to marry us. It was frightening; he spoke like he owned me and would not listen when I pleaded for him to let me go. Said the lands around his home were spelled to not let me escape; the ring itself prevented me from using magic without permission or harming him."

There was a pregnant pause as she struggled to form the words that came next. The recollection was vivid in her mind; her own screams and the impact of his body shoving into hers without care, the pain she had felt.

"He…he raped me," she said. Harry's eyes closed and Ron clenched his fists, staring down angrily at the table. "It hurt so much I passed out and when I woke up the next day he did it again though I begged him not to. Said he would never let me go, that I was his. I was so angry I tried to hit him but the ring wouldn't let me."

Harry's hand inched closer to hers, but Hermione withdrew from his touch.

"He is the one who bit you," Molly said flatly, looking at Hermione's shoulder. Hermione shivered, remembering how it had happened, and nodded before pulling a section of hair over it to conceal it.

"Inside his home I had no way of knowing what was happening outside, and unless it was something minor he would not tell me. He kept me there all this time. He forced himself on me almost daily and punished me if I displeased him. About a week after I was kidnapped he took me to see his parents. They were both kind, but unable to help. Mrs. Malfoy was ill; she did not know exactly how I came to be married to her son. She died last month."
Hermione was growing tired, unused to talking for so long-a first for her.

"He took me to be interrogated by Vo-Voldemort. He tortured me but I didn't tell him anything." Hermione did not tell them about what else he had done.

"He was already violent before but when his mother died he grew more unstable. He started making offers, trying to tempt me to give in to him but I refused. For that he began giving me Amortentia. For days on end he would make me drink it and I would have almost no memory of what happened during that time. I told him about potential side effects but he ignored me until they started happening. He stopped making me take it but only on the condition that I show him love." She paused to take in a breath and suppressed a yawn.

"Were the Malfoys the only people you saw in that time?" Harry asked.

"No, I saw Blaise Zabini frequently. He are Dra-Malfoy are close friends, he was allowed to come visit whenever he liked."

Ron hissed between his teeth. "That bastard was there too?"

"I know he didn't act very courteously towards us in the past," Hermione said softly. "But if it wasn't for him I would not be here."

Ron gawked. "What do you mean?"

"He showed guilt over what he had done, what he had helped Draco accomplish in Sixth Year as well as what he did to me," she said. "Apparently Draco named him my protector, and said that if I was ever in danger Blaise had full permission to help me however he could. He was so full of himself he didn't realize he himself was a danger to me, so Blaise helped me out. Before we left I found out from Draco himself about another Horcrux and where it was hidden. I told Blaise I needed to get back to the school, he got me my wand and we used a Portkey to come to Hogwarts. I found the Horcrux and he destroyed it with Fiendfyre. He left after that. We knew he had betrayed Draco's trust, and that he would come after us. Blaise offered to take me with him somewhere safe for the time being but I couldn't go." She looked at Harry and Ron. "I had to find you."

"We looked for you everywhere once we found out," Harry said. "We also went to the school to look for the Horcrux; we didn't realize the battle was happening on the same day."

Hermione nodded and looked down into her lap again. Now came the hard part.

"I was in the courtyard, behind the rubble because I didn't want to be seen. I heard them say Harry was dead, and I kind of collapsed. After I got up Voldemort's snake found me. It chased me and would have eaten me but someone came and cut its head off with a sword. I didn't get a look at who it was, but could it have been you, Ron?"

"It was Neville," Ron said. "Harry told us to go after the snake. Neville had the sword and I had a fang from the old Basilisk from Second Year."

At the mention of another close friend, Hermione's heart ached.

"Is…Is he alive?" she asked meekly.

"Yeah, I saw him help clean up after the battle with Luna."

Another wave of relief washed over her, but she knew she could not let out that breath just yet. Others had died, she had seen many bodies. But she had to ask.

"Did anyone else…?"

"Percy was killed by the Senior Goyle," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Oh no," Hermione said, feeling her heart sink. Percy was always a little pretentious, but they had always gotten along fairly well until he took that job at the Ministry. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you, my dear."

Hermione took Mrs. Weasley's shaking hand in her own and squeezed it softly, and did the same with Ron's.

After a mournful silence they straightened, and Hermione sat down again.

Mrs. Weasley was wiping her eyes. "Tell me, dear, what happened to Malfoy? Where is he now?"

Hermione took her elbows off the table, unconsciously curling into herself.

"…After the snake had been killed I heard some noise back in the courtyard. There was someone shouting and I went to look for Ron. I sensed there was someone behind me but by the time I tried to defend myself he had already Apparated me away to the Shrieking Shack."

"So he found you."

"Yes."

"What happened then?"

"…"

"Hermione?"

"He beat me." Her voice came out so frail and broken; Harry scooted closer and put his arm around her. Hermione stiffened at first but then relaxed into him, fighting not to cry. "I couldn't protect myself, he kicked me over and over and said he had been too lenient with me. He was furious that I had dared to run away from him, and promised when he was through with me I wouldn't be able to crawl. He said he would punish me for taking Blaise away from him and used the Cruciatus curse on me." Harry's arm tightened around her. "He said he was going to take me home to continue my punishment. I was afraid he would kill me. He had put my wand away but I grabbed it and-and…"

"What, Hermione? What happened?"

The confession came out in a mortified whisper.

"I killed him."

At last, the tears began to flow again. Hermione was faced with the reality of the crime she had committed. She, a killer! What had she done? She should have just Apparated away and left him there. She had only meant to Stun him! She had not meant to kill him!

Draco had turned her into a killer. It was his entire fault. What was that he'd said about her dream where the same thing had happened?

'We'll see what the future holds for your declaration.'

Had he known? Had he planned it to be so? Hermione couldn't believe it. The genuine rage and shock in his eyes had not been faked, but then, who was she to be judge? It didn't matter, so long as he was dead and could not hurt her anymore, she told herself.
Harry held her, rubbing her back until the tears subsided, which didn't take so long. When they did he pulled away and looked her in the face.

"You did nothing wrong in killing him, Hermione. He would have killed you or hurt you more than he already had. It was self-defense, okay?" Hermione nodded through her tears. "He's never going to hurt you again, I promise."

"Is the body still there?" Ron asked carefully.

"Y-yes."

Ron looked at his mother. "I'll take Fred and George with me to get the body. Should we take it to Lucius?"

Mrs. Weasley spoke in a whisper but Hermione still heard her words. "Lucius Malfoy didn't survive the battle. I think it best to take the body to the Ministry."

More sadness. Lucius had been so kind to her, and now he was dead. The whole Malfoy family was gone. Harry let her place her head on his shoulder, holding her as she cried.

Ron left quickly to gather the twins before going to the Shrieking Shack.

"Alright, dear," Mrs. Weasley spoke up. "You've tired yourself out; it's time for bed. We'll talk more tomorrow."
"Yes, okay," Hermione said. She and Harry stood together. Harry walked her to her bedroom, but before he could step inside after her Mrs. Weasley gestured for him to wait a moment.

"I need to speak with her in private for a moment, dear."

"Of course," he said, and waited outside as she shut the door.

Hermione turned to face Mrs. Weasley.

"Sit down, Hermione dear, please, I'm worried your strength is not totally back yet."

After Hermione sat on the side of the bed, Mrs. Weasley sat beside her and wound her arm around Hermione's shoulders. The younger witch rested her head against the other woman, gazing blankly at the wall opposite them.

"I examined you when you were brought in. I found signs of assault on your body, and noticed you had tried to claw off that ring."

Hermione's hand twitched at the mention of the ring.

"I can't ever get it off now," she said hollowly. "Only he could take it off."

"We will do whatever we can to find a way," Mrs. Weasley assured her. "Would you like if Mr. Weasley looked into hiring a Curse Breaker for you?"

"Would that work?"

"I don't know, dear. But it could at least get rid of some of the enchantments on that ring. I tried myself, but it's very dark, ancient magic, I'm afraid. Do you want to try it?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you."

"Another thing, Hermione-You've been in captivity with him for several months. You have been through a horrifying ordeal-I am worried his treatment towards you may have resulted in some psychological as well as physical disturbance. Do you think seeking professional help would help you? Or at least seeing an advanced Healer?"

"No, no," Hermione shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I just want it all to go away as quickly as possible, please."

"All right then," Mrs. Weasley said, pressing a kiss to Hermione's temple before rising from the bed. "If you need anything, dear, you know where I'll be.

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Shall I send Harry in?"

There was a moment's hesitation, but at last Hermione nodded, and Mrs. Weasley exited the room.

When Harry entered the room he found Hermione standing before the window, cupping her elbows in a self-embrace. She looked so lost it tore at him to see it.

"You must be revolted by me," she said in a wavering voice.

"I've loved you for almost as long as I've known you," Harry said in reply. "You will get through this, Hermione. You are not what happened to you."

Her shoulders dropped at his words and she turned away from the window to face him.

"I didn't mean to kill him, I swear! I only wanted to Stun him!"

"I believe you."

"Why did you leave me behind?" she asked. "You shouldn't have lied to me."

"I know. I regretted it the moment we left the castle. If I had known you followed us we would have waited. We would have gone back to look for you. We never should have left you alone, I'm sorry."

He stood still as she approached him slowly and stared up at him with haunted eyes. Her thin arms still held herself tightly as though she had been split into two halves and was desperate to stay whole.

"You were all I ever thought about," came her whisper. "I worried about you and Ron every day and night I was with him. Every time he smiled at me I was sure he was going to tell me you were dead. Often when he was angry with me he would threaten to kill you or Neville to get me to do what he wanted," her voice broke off.

Harry pulled her to him, his hands spread out high on her back.

"I'm here," he breathed. "I'm here, and I'm never going to leave you again."

Hermione's body sagged with relief; Harry picked her up carefully and sat her down on the bed against the headboard. The bright saffron coloured blanket underneath her emphasized the unhealthy pallor of her skin, the faint blue veins that swam up the thin skin on her legs.

"Will you stay?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Harry said.

"I know I'm safe with you," was her reply. "You don't feel like him."

The bed was soft and warm underneath him but she was softer and warmer. Harry sat next to her, making sure to keep a little space between them.

"I feel like a stranger to myself," her dry lips quivered. "He found ways to make me respond to him Harry, when he…when he touched me. Even though I hated him more than anything he made my body like it." A fat teardrop splashed onto the fabric covering her breast. "He made me dirty, and since the first time I doubt I will ever feel like myself again." Large brown eyes turned onto his pleadingly. "Truly, Harry. I never wanted it, never."

Harry's hand found hers, grasped it. "I believe you."

"He took control of my life once already," she said, her voice growing softer, "I won't ever let him do it again. I want to pretend none of it ever happened," her hand twitched again and dove underneath the blanket.

Nothing more was said. The silence between them grew but it was not unpleasant. The moon rose high above the Burrow, revealing things better kept hidden. Hermione fell asleep first, leaning against Harry, her head resting against his chest. Harry was careful not to startle her awake. Their hands were still entwined on the bedspread. The room was not cold but eventually she began to shiver; Harry summoned a spare blanket from the foot of the bed to cover her with as he himself was unable to sleep.

So many thoughts kept him awake, the one appearing most frequent being he was extremely sorry he had not been the one to kill Draco Malfoy.

Percy's funeral took place later on that week. Harry had chipped in to buy him a handsome casket, to which neither Mr. or Mrs. Weasley protested. Only the immediate family came, since there were so many other funerals happening at the same time. Harry, Hermione and Ron stood with Fred and George, who had not cracked a single joke since the battle. As they all went to pay their final respects, Harry saw them each place a fake rubber wand into their brother's coffin. Harry was sure Percy would have liked that had he been alive to see it.

The day after the funeral two unexpected visitors came to the Burrow. Hermione had just returned from the gardens when something collided into her and wrapped strong arms around her.

Immediately Hermione panicked. "Please-no!" she said, trying to pull away. Terror gripped her as the person pulled away and she flinched, awaiting the strike that would surely come. Her eyes shut-she didn't want to see those terrifying eyes.

"Hermione? I'm sorry-Hermione!"

That voice! She opened her eyes, and the terror fled her.

"Oh thank goodness!" She threw her arms around him and he laughed.

"You're okay! I knew you would be! I would have come to see you sooner but I didn't find out you had been found until today and I informed the Professor and we came as fast as we could."

"The Professor?"
Just then Hermione noticed Professor McGonagall rise from her seat at the kitchen table.

"I confess when I saw you at the battle, Miss Granger, I could not quite believe it," she said before coming forward to embrace Hermione. "I was sure someone had played a trick on me."

"I would have gone back to see you," Hermione said earnestly. "But I was looking for Harry and Ron."

"Malfoy kidnapped you, didn't he?" Neville asked. "When I get my hands on that slimy snake-"

"Mister Longbottom!"

"It's alright, Professor," Hermione said. To Neville, she said, "It's too late. He's dead."

Only Neville was taken by surprise. "How?"

Hermione looked uneasy. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Of course. Sorry."

Professor McGonagall stepped forward. "I understand the body was not found?"

"No." Ron and the twins had come back from the Shrieking Shack empty handed.

"There was old blood on the floor," Ron had said. "That must have been yours, Hermione. But there was no body."

The news had unsettled them all greatly until someone suggested someone from the Ministry might have found the body before them.

Hermione was inclined to believe this. She related to them the noises she had heard outside the Shack after Draco had fallen down, the unmistakable sound of someone running towards the Shack.

"Does this mean they're looking for me?" she'd asked, frightened.

"I doubt it," Harry had said then. "Anyone could have done it as long as they didn't see you. Besides, from what you've told us he was Voldemort's new right hand. I think they wouldn't care who killed him so long as he was gone."

"Could this mean he's still alive?" Neville asked. Hermione's breath caught.

The Professor frowned. "Nonsense. Perhaps another follower found him and took the body where one of us could not find it."

Their visit did not last long. The Professor had already been informed of what had happened by Molly, whom had received permission from Hermione before doing so. Neville had not been filled in, but he had not been picked Head Boy for nothing, he could put two and two together.

"I'll come back often," he promised her.

"Do," Hermione said. "I've missed you so much."

During Neville's second visit, Hermione relayed to him the threat Draco had made to her about wanting to find Neville.

"I was so worried," she said. "I didn't see you at the battle and thought he had found you."

Neville was pleased when she told him it was her he had saved from Nagini in the courtyard, and shocked when he heard about how Blaise had helped with the Horcrux.

"Zabini, of all people!" he remarked.

"I am greatly indebted to him," Hermione said. "But I don't know where I might find him."

Neville confessed he had not seen Blaise since the Slytherin had caught him outside the Room of Requirement, and Hermione was left to search on her own.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger still had not been found. Hermione preferred to view this as a sign that she had hidden them successfully rather than face the unpleasant thought that lurked in the back of her mind.

Mr. Weasley was still looking into finding a Curse Breaker. They explained Bill would have liked to help, but was working on something currently for Gringotts. Harry had insisted he would pay for the service, despite Hermione's protestations, but was forced to relent as he would not give in. As well as this, Mr. Weasley and Ron were looking to find the particular spell that had bound her to him.

"All modern marriage spells won't work unless both partners are willing," Mrs. Weasley explained to a confused Hermione. "The one on that ring is ancient; it might take some time to find which one. You were not awake when he performed it?"
"No."

"Perhaps it might be in the Malfoy Manor," Ron spoke up. "We could get a warrant to search their library to see if they might have a book with the spell in it."

This idea was taken up quickly and the Ministry was applied to.

Harry and Hermione were constantly together. They slept in the same room but made clear nothing happened between them. Harry slept on a cot beside her so as to not trouble her. It pained him to see how she suffered from what had happened to her. It had not been so clear at first but the signs grew more evident with each passing day.

Any sudden movement or loud exclamation caused her to flinch and shrink away. Often, she herself noticed when this happened and tried to correct it or pass it off with a strained smile but they all took care not to startle her. Once she had tripped going down the steps alongside Ron, and Ron had grabbed her around the waist to stop her from falling. She pushed away rather violently and red-faced, Ron hastened to apologize. She begged him to forgive her rudeness instead, knowing he had meant well, and rushed to lock herself in her room with her heart still racing.

The bossy, bright Gryffindor was gone, replaced by a quiet, frightened kitten. Ginny spent lots of time with her and found the change most distressing. She had not known Draco Malfoy very well but she hated him with a passion that burned as red as her hair for what he had done to her friend.

Hermione took a dreamless sleeping draught each night to prevent the night terrors from coming back, but each morning she woke with the ghostly feeling of his hands on her, his breath brushing harshly against her cheek. Sometimes she fancied she saw him. At Percy's funeral, behind the garden gate as she took a walk, the first time she dared venture back into Diagon Alley he was every third stranger she passed, waiting at every corner she turned. She had to mentally shake herself each time it happened.

He's dead, she repeated to herself. Dead. You did it, you saw it happen. He can't come back.

He was gone and she would heal. The task was daunting, as every day she was reminded in some way or another how she had been affected by him and she felt it would extraneous effort to get past it all.

She would be strong again. She would heal.

A/N:

You know, I always feel like I am spelling Weaseley wrong.

NINJA EDIT: I was spelling it wrong. I am so embarrassed ohmygod. Thanks to iwillsingyoulullabies for kindly pointing it out!

Also thanks to Grovek26 for reminding me that Bill is, in fact, a Curse Breaker! Well, we'll just pretend he's too busy working on something to be able to help Hermione.

Reviews are as welcome as a nice pair of wool socks. (Brrr.)

Holy molasses that took a long time to write. Definitely one of the longer chapters I've written so far.

Thank you so much for all the reviews on the previous two chapters! You guys are rockstar reviewers!
I'm glad the last chapter left such an impression on some of you. Like I said, there is still more to this story that must be explained before it ends.

Feel free to theorize as much as you want, bring along your tin foil hats if you like.

You all have such marvelous ideas; I'm really enjoying reading each one as it comes in, but in the end I hope you won't be disappointed by how I plan to end this story.

So please no hate towards each other! No fighting! Everyone can contribute as long as they are respectful of the other's opinions. This is not a contest, my dears. Until the end comes no one is wrong.

(I don't really care if you swear in your reviews-I myself swear quite a bit and there is swearing in this story after all. Swearing at others is frowned upon here, though.)

There are 2-3 chapters left in this story.

Cheers,

Charlotte

FINAL EDIT: Jeez, guys, I only asked for one small thing. Attacking the other reviewers is not ok.

THREATENING OTHER REVIEWERS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.

I don't care if you disagree with their theory on what might happen-either courteously and respectfully submit your own take (on draco's death) in a review or KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

I've deleted some reviews and will continue to delete more if this problem continues.

BE RESPECTFUL. BE COURTEOUS. BE KIND. IF YOU CAN'T BE ALL OF THEM CHOOSE ONE.

This is a site where we all come to read and share our works or ideas; being hostile towards each other only sets us back.