Discalimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.
November 2008.
Hermione wasn't even aware she was running away until she fell down on the cold grass outside, tears flowing from her eyes as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe.
She wasn't sure how long she had been that way before someone followed her – surely no longer than a few minutes, though it felt like hours – but it wasn't long before strong arms were wrapped around her, a comforting voice whispering soothing words into her ear.
"I- I can't," she cried. "I don't want Anna to die, but I- I can't go back, please don't make me go back!"
"You won't," Dean promised. "You won't have to go back. We'll find a way to solve this mess, I promise."
"H- How?" Hermione questioned. "Ruby's right, we can't fight Heaven and Hell. We can't even fight one side, with the Angels threatening to send me back there and Alistair…" she trailed off, tears rising to her eyes again. "I can't go back," she repeated. "Don't let him get me again."
A chill ran down Dean's spine at her words.
He figured that she knew Alistair – she all but admitted it after they escaped the Demon at the church. But to hear her talking about him the way that she did, her voice shaking and with fear in her eyes… it was clear that Alistair held an important role during Hermione's time in Hell.
He had never seen Hermione this scared before – not when they were kids, not when she was fighting Voldemort, not when the two of them hunted together and not even that night six months ago, when she came to say one last goodbye to him and Sam right before the Hellhounds arrived to drag her away.
The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, his feelings for the girl in his arms finally winning against the overwhelming fear he felt whenever he thought of their relationship.
"Yes," he told her, only for her brows to furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Yes," he repeated simply. "I know it's late, and I know you didn't ask me this time, but I'll say it now because I was too stupid to say it when you did. Yes, I want you to stay."
"If you say you want me to stay, I will."
How long had it been since she told him that? How many times had she wondered why he refused her request?
"D- Don't," she said. "Please, don't. Not – not now. Not with everything going on. This might be my last night on Earth –"
"So I might not have another chance, right?" Dean asked. "Mya… I've been stupid. God, I've been so stupid before. But I don't want to keep doing that. I… I care about you. More than I ever cared about anyone before… other than Sammy," he added, and Hermione let out a strangled laugh.
She knew Dean cared the most about Sam, and it never made a difference when it came down to it. He wouldn't be the man he was – he wouldn't truly be Dean Winchester – if he didn't put his little brother before everything else.
"I care about you, so much," he said. "I care about you so much it hurts. I care about you so much that it makes me scared, so I push you away, but I can't do that anymore. I won't. I refuse to."
Looking up at him through tear-filled eyes, Hermione couldn't help but be aware of how close they were to one another, and how his arms were wrapped around her as though he was unwilling to ever let her go.
"I thought you don't do chick flick moments," she found herself whispering.
"Yeah," Dean whispered back. "You were always the exception to that rule."
Neither of them were sure who was the first to lean closer, placing their lips on the other's, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was the feeling of their bodies' shared heat, the hunger in which they kissed, the silent prayer they both sent - though to whom, they didn't know – that they will have many more like this one. That they won't be torn from each other tomorrow.
That they'll live.
Slowly, they stood up, almost never breaking the kiss, ad Hermione didn't even think as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around Dean's waist.
He led her to the Impala without further delay, green eyes meeting brown in a kind of hunger they almost forgot existed.
"You know," Hermione said afterwards, when they were both lying in the back seat of the Impala, "when I came back from Hell it was like all of my scars healed. Well…" she added, subconsciously touching her left arm. "Almost all of them. All of the scars that weren't caused by Dark Magic."
"When you say all of your scars," Dean started slowly. "Do you also mean…?"
"Yes," Hermione replied. "I also mean that one."
"Oh," Dean replied. "Well, that's… something."
"I don't think we ever did it in the car before," she quickly changed the subject, turning her head to look at him. "It's… different."
"Good different or bad different?" Dean asked, grateful that he didn't have to keep think about what she just told him.
"Little bit of both." Hermione let her eyes close, enjoying the feeling of Dean's arms wrapped around her before a disturbing thought crossed her mind. "Oh, Merlin," she said. "Sammy can't know."
"That we had sex?"
"That we had sex in the car," Hermione said. "It took him weeks to look at me normally again after he found out we were together last time. If he knew this…"
"He will refuse to get into the car for months," Dean laughed.
"I think he'd rather walk," Hermione joked. "Honestly, though, how come we never did it in the car?"
"It just… never felt right," Dean said. "I felt you deserved better than that."
"Are you implying that I don't anymore?"
"I'm implying that I don't care about it anymore," Dean replied. "I just… I missed this," he sighed, marking between the two of them.
Hermione swallowed nervously. "I gave you a chance," she said. "You were the one who…"
"Could we…" Dean sighed again. "Could we not? I know I made a lot of mistakes, but… can we put it aside, just for tonight?"
"We'll have to talk about it eventually," Hermione told him. "But…" She hesitated, knowing that if they kept ignoring everything between them, their fights would only get worse. "I think we can forget about it for tonight."
"Not tonight," Dean repeated, smiling softly and pulling Hermione closer to him.
They lay in the back seat of the car, keeping each other safe from the As the two of them drifted into sleep, he didn't think her imagined her muttering quietly.
"Not tomorrow, either."
Eventually, everything sorted out. They lured in both the Demons and the Angels, using a complicated, dangerous plan that nearly got both Ruby and Anna killed, only for them to grab Anna's Grace from Uriel at the last moment and return it to its rightful owner.
Anna glowed bright as her Grace was restored, banishing away the Angels and killing the Demons who didn't escape in time. Hermione couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment at Alistair not being one of them, but she managed to hide it from Dean and Sam well enough to avoid questions. Or, at least, to be able to convince them that the questions could wait until later.
Once the dust settled, the three hunters made their way back to the Salvage Yard. Knowing that she couldn't keep hiding the truth from them, Hermione agreed to tell them everything on the condition that her father was there. She knew she couldn't keep something like that away from him, and she didn't think she'd be able to tell the story again.
Living through it once was bad enough. Talking about it for the first time would be the hardest thing she has ever done. She didn't think she would survive reliving it that many times.
Once the four of them settled in Bobby's living room, Hermione felt her courage starting to escape her.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Bobby said softly.
"Yeah, I do," Hermione replied. "If I won't, then… then I'll never get over it, and I can't let it haunt me for the rest of my life."
However long that may be, she thought but dared not say out loud, in fear of what their reaction would be.
"Okay," she said, collecting every ounce of Gryffindor courage she had. "I'm ready." There was a short pause before she admitted, "I don't know where to start."
"Tell us about the deal you made," Sam guided. "When did you make it?"
"A week after you told me about Dean's deal," Hermione replied. "A week before it was due. I searched everywhere. I used every contact I had, looked through every Hunter and Wizard library I could find. But there was nothing. There was no loophole in Dean's deal. No way for him to get out without Sam being pulled in. A soul for a soul." Her voice was detached as she spoke, retelling the events as though they happened to a stranger. "It didn't take me long to see that this was the only way to get him out of the deal. A soul for a soul."
"But you only got a week."
"I didn't have much to bargain for," she said. "Only hopeless people make deals… and I was very hopeless. The Demon only offered me one deal, and it was clear that he wouldn't offer another one. It was this or nothing… so I took it. But the date the deal was due wasn't the only thing they changed."
"Anything more?"
"There is… one thing," Crowley said. "If you agree to the deal, when you go down to Hell you won't be tortured on the rack like everyone else."
"A part of the deal was that I won't be sent down to Hell to be tortured. Instead, I was to be the one who puts souls on the rack." The horrified, silent shock of the men in front of her was unnerving, but she was also grateful that they didn't interrupt. "Alistair is the Master Torturer of Hell. And I was his student."
"My star pupil."
"I think they knew it would hurt me more," she said quietly. "I've been tortured before. I can handle torture. But torturing others…"
"I…" Dean started. "It was just a month," he said. "I know it was hard, but –"
"Time passes differently in Hell," Hermione cut him off. "When Ga- when my friend went in to save me, only three days passed up here before he returned, but it's been a year down there. Up here, it's only been a month, but down there…"
"Ten years," Sam whispered, quickly doing the math. "You've been down there, torturing souls… for ten years?"
Hermione didn't say anything for a few long seconds, unable to look at her father, her best friend and the man she loved. She was too scared from the horror she was certain to find in their eyes.
"I still think it's all a dream, sometimes," she finally said when she was certain she could speak without falling apart.
"Being in Hell?" Bobby asked, his voice shaking.
"No," Hermione replied, finally gathering the courage to look up at him. "Getting out."
