Chapter 12

"You and Hermione," I say.

Nott lets out a groan, leaning back in his seat and downing the rest of the wine in his glass, as if he'd been expecting this.

I set my own glass down on the polished surface of his side table, inwardly cringing that there are no coasters available to shield its flawless finish. "What happened there?" I say after an awkward silence.

He runs a finger across his chin, studying me. He narrows his eyes, tightens his mouth, waits for me to say something else. I don't. He shrugs, finally. "Hermione and I were not meant to be."

I consider this statement skeptically. "You don't strike me as the type to believe in 'meant to be'."

He sighs. "Why does she interest you so?"

I scoff, react as though he's attacked me personally. "She doesn't. I mean, I'm interested in all of it. It's why I sought you out. You and Draco Malfoy."

He cocks his head to the side and directs a rather weighty glance at me. "Me," he says, "and Draco Malfoy?"

I look away, knowing that I've let something slip. "I needed multiple primary sources. I couldn't just take your word for it."

Nott sits up in his seat. The dim floodlights from overhead fade over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones. "Take my word for what?"

…

What will be the penalty? The consequence of their cowardice? Surely whatever their punishment would be, it couldn't supersede the guilt that came hand in hand with their decision to run. To hide. To vanish. Hermione wondered what became of the world, as she dipped her hands into the icy water of the creek. Was there a world that still existed outside of the walls of the Forbidden Forest? Because they had become walls, the trees. They were their protection, their privacy, their boundary.

Her hands were becoming numb, unburdened. She brought the creek to her face. It was easier to not imagine at all. As if there were a great big nothing beyond. The Forbidden Forest within a vacuum. Hurtling through a bottomless abyss. Or perhaps suspended, floating, hanging within a vast emptiness. Everyone who's ever existed already gone. Nobody left to worry about.

"What's on your mind?"

Hermione recognized the hands that twisted before her eyes were her own. Her fingers were wringing one another, still dripping with creek water. But she wasn't at the creek anymore.

"Hermione?"

She didn't look up. Not yet. It was difficult to extricate herself from the tangles of her mind this time. She continued to stare into the heat of the fire. Because she was at the fire now. Sitting before it, watching it. She was the fire.

Someone sat beside her. An arm reached around her shoulders.

"Are you cold?"

Hypothermia? That was their best guess?

The back of someone's hand swept across her forehead. She could feel by the heat of the hand that she did not have a fever.

Was this what it felt like? To lose yourself somewhere. Somewhere within the confines of your own mind. Confines. As if the mind were a prison. As if the mind were not infinite. With so many places to run. To hide. To vanish.

…

I am getting up to leave because the tables have turned. He's posing all the questions now and I can't give him any answers.

"Marian," Nott stands up. I hand him my empty glass and he takes it, places it on the table absentmindedly, following me through the front corridor. "Marian, will you just explain yourself?"

I could tell that he's torn. Torn between anger and fear. But Theodore Nott shows neither emotion. He's infuriatingly good at composing himself. I wonder what it's like inside his mind. I wonder where he keeps the turmoil.

"You can't just leave."

"I can," I say. I know this isn't the first time he's had to let someone go.

"Who are you?"

He says this as I shut the door behind myself. And Theodore Nott is too proud to reopen it.

…

It was Nott who had sat beside her. Because now he was standing again, and then crouching before her. In between her and the fire. He placed his hands on her knees. His presence broke the concentration between her eyes and the fire that danced before them, hypnotising. She glanced at his worried eyes. He waited patiently for her to see him.

"Are you there?" he said.

She nodded. It's not that she hadn't cared to respond. It's that she hadn't cared enough.

"Say something, Hermione." Nott looked at her in desperation.

Hermione looked past him at Malfoy, who was standing just behind the flames, watching her gravely.

"I'm fine, Theo," she said. "Just a little tired."

Nott rose and slowly turned his back to her. To Malfoy, he said in a low voice, "Do you know what's happening here?"

"I said, it's nothing, Theo," she said defiantly, a sort of antagonism coursing through her at his disregard for her assertion.

Nott looked back at her skeptically while Malfoy continued to watch her mutely.

"Have you checked on Luna?" she said. It's not that she wasn't concerned about Luna, but there was no denying the question was a distraction.

"Neville looked in before he and Ron went hunting," Nott replied, still keeping an unconvinced gaze trained on her.

"Ginny!"

The three looked over to see Ginny hobbling over to the fire pit with Harry hot on her heels. Her red hair flew wildly around her face; she looked like a walking torch, blazing her way toward them despite Harry's efforts to impede her.

"Ginny!" he was hissing behind her. "Ginny, don't!"

Ginny twisted out of his grasp when he went to clutch her wrist. "They have a right to know, Harry. They'll find out eventually, anyhow."

Hermione's gaze drifted from Harry to Ginny and back again. She suddenly remembered that the girl had tried to confide in her during the Oliver Wood debacle. Talk about bad timing.

"What's the matter, Ginny?" Hermione called. When she went to get up, Nott bounded toward her, steadying her as she rose.

"For goodness sake, Theo, I'm fine!" she sighed. She slid his hands off of her arms and walked toward Ginny.

"Here we go," Nott muttered to Malfoy, eyeing Ginny as Hermione positioned her on a log by the fire.

Ginny sighed. "I have something to say."

"Ginny, don't," Harry said again.

Hermione gave Harry a disdainful look. "You can tell me, Ginny," she said softly.

"It's not you I'm worried about," Harry said.

"Really, Potter?" Malfoy said in a condescending tone. "You still don't trust me?"

Harry turned to him with a contemptuous expression. "What exactly have you done that was trustworthy, Malfoy?"

Malfoy grimaced but said nothing else.

"Ginny," Nott said steadily. "Are you here to tell us why the Death Eaters, or rather, the prisoners – Imperiused or possessed or whatever they may be – are after you?"

Harry let out a dramatic sigh and Hermione shot him another impatient glance.

"They're not after me," Ginny said quietly.

Nott watched Ginny placidly, as if he already knew what she was going to say.

As Hermione began to understand what Ginny was saying, she felt a heaviness begin to consume her again. Drown her from the inside.

"They're after the heir of Harry Potter," she said. She placed an instinctive hand over her belly.

Nott pursed his lips and took a deep breath, staring past Ginny now, thinking.

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to slow the whistling of her mind. Or speed it up. Let it run its course. One or the other.

Malfoy's face contorted. "Oh no." He shook his head. "I did not sign up for this. I did not sign up to deliver a baby in the wilderness."

"Nobody signed up for this, Malfoy," Harry barked back.

"You were going to keep this from us?" Hermione breathed.

"It's none of their business!" Harry pointed at Malfoy and Nott.

Hermione stared at him. "You didn't think that they'd notice when Ginny began to blow up like a balloon despite the obvious lack of food?"

"I didn't even know if –" Harry trailed off when Ginny looked up at him. He sighed. "I didn't know if she was still pregnant after – after the battle."

"It's why your recovery was so difficult," Nott said. "Your body was fighting for two lives."

"I'm scared," Ginny said quietly.

"No need to be scared, Red," Nott said, looking up at Harry. "We won't let anything happen to you."

Harry nodded at Nott resolutely.

"This is fucked up," Malfoy said. He shook his head again and began to walk away. He thrust his hands into his hair, pacing. "You ever delivered a child, Nott?" he said, stopping suddenly. "I mean, I know you're smart. But this? Not even you can do this."

Nott looked at Ginny. "It's not complicated," he said, winking at her. "Nature does most of the work, yeah?" He smiled tightly and placed a hand over Ginny's. "We've got this."

Malfoy swore in the background. "I'm going to go check on Luna," he said and walked off.

"Let's take a walk, Ginny," Harry helped Ginny up from the log.

"That's good," Nott nodded. "Best get her strength up. Walking is good."

…

His hair falls in waves over his face. Cascades like the rushing of a waterfall. It whips against his cheeks in the wind. White like the moon. On a dark night like tonight, it seems to be the only source of light. I come from behind him.

"Why'd you follow me?" he says without turning. His hair flies wildly about as he stares out across the river.

I approach him and grasp the railing of the pier. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He looks over at me. "Why wouldn't I be?"

So many reasons. "No reason."

He tentatively places his palm over my knuckles as I continue to clutch the railing. "One day," he says, "you'll tell me."

"Tell you what?" I say.

"What this is all about."

I guess he no longer believes me to be a journalist, out for a good story. Well, a story. Whether or not it's good isn't for me to decide. I'm hardly impartial. "Do you think you're a good person?" I say.

Malfoy smirks a classic Malfoy smirk. The first I've ever seen. "Define good."

Well, that's one thing we have in common. A shared belief in the utter relativity of that word. Under the warmth of his hand, I want to believe there's more.

…

"No!"

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy run frantically out of Luna's hut. She jumped up, her heart not quite following her up. It hammered somewhere inside of her, dislocated. She feared the worst, of course, that Luna was dead. But, as she began to make her way toward the shelter, Malfoy continued to scream.

"Where is she?"

"What?" Nott was already making his way over.

"She's gone!" Malfoy howled. "She's just gone!"

Hermione, together with Nott, ran over to the shelter to check for themselves.

"Did you think I missed her?" Malfoy growled through gritted teeth when they turned to face him. His face was ashen.

Hermione looked back into the shelter in disbelief. "Where the bloody hell did she go?"

"Someone took her," Malfoy hissed. He shoved Nott. "You were supposed to watch her."

"Malfoy, it wasn't his fault!" Hermione positioned herself between them.

Nott sighed and shook his head. "I don't know how it happened." Hermione could tell by his voice that he felt responsible.

Malfoy swore and struck the shelter with his fist. Some foliage crumbled away with a soft avalanche of snow, but the structure stayed surprisingly intact despite the impact. Malfoy roared in frustration, poised to kick at the logs when Nott grabbed him by the arm. "Is destroying one of our two shelters really the most productive solution here?"

Malfoy twisted his arm out of Nott's grasp but kept a moody gaze on him, nonetheless.

Nott nodded sideways, in the direction Hermione had gone. She had her hands on her head, her fingers raked through the knots in her hair. She stared out into the forest behind the shelters. She was muttering something under her breath.

"What's up with her?" Malfoy said.

Nott shifted his jaw in contemplation. "Stress. Trauma. Starvation. You name it."

Malfoy seemed unconvinced. "There's more."

Nott began to walk toward her, with Malfoy not far behind.

"We have to get her back," she was whispering feverishly.

"Hermione?" Nott put a hand on her shoulder.

She jerked away. "We can't lose her too!" she cried. "We can't! He can't have her too!"

She was sobbing and Nott pulled her into his chest while Malfoy stood aside and watched. Nott tightened his lips and placed his hand over her hair, tucked her head under his chin.

"No," Hermione was shaking her head, squirming out of his grasp. "No!" she screamed. "She will not be another casualty of this war!"

"What do you propose we do?" Malfoy said gruffly. "Storm the front doors of the castle?"

Hermione blinked at him and his ego seemed to retreat at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

"There's nothing we can do, Hermione," he said quietly. "We've barely any magic. We have but a fraction of their forces."

"We can kill him," she said.

"Kill who?" Malfoy grimaced.

"Voldemort."

"Are you out of your mind?" he said, trying to steady his voice. He glanced at Nott as if expecting him to contribute somehow to the conversation.

"I am tired of hiding! If he kills us, then so be it!"

"Speak for yourself!" Malfoy yelled.

"Alright, alright," Nott said. "Let's just take a moment to cool off, shall we?"

Hermione fixed Malfoy with a bitter stare. "Once a coward, always a coward."

At this Malfoy clenched his fists and brought them up to his face. He seemed to be shaking with fury. After a failed attempt to compose himself, he shouted, "He's not even here!"

Nott shot Malfoy a disapproving glance but said nothing.

Hermione stared at Malfoy. "What do you mean, he's not here?"

Malfoy sighed. "The Dark Lord. He's not at Hogwarts."

Hermione felt the goosepimples scatter across her skin. "How do you know," she said dangerously, "where the Dark Lord isn't?"

"I can explain," he began.

"You better." She started for him, but Nott held out his arm to block her from approaching Malfoy. She looked up at him in shock.

Malfoy watched her with his own dose of malice. "How did you think we were all able to escape into the Forbidden Forest undetected?" he said savagely. "They let us go."

Hermione stared at him. Even though she'd already guessed it, hearing the words felt like someone had sucked the air from her lungs. But how could she feel betrayed? What had she expected from Malfoy? "You're a Death Eater," she said with repulsion.

"Honestly, Granger. If you still think I'm a Death Eater, then we've got nothing else to discuss," Malfoy huffed and began to walk away.

"Draco," Nott said, "will you give her a chance to understand?"

"You!" Hermione rounded on Nott. "You knew about this?"

"That's right," Malfoy called back nastily. "Your boyfriend here knew all about it. In fact, he'd helped me plan it all."

Nott sighed and looked at Hermione. "Hear me out," he said quietly.

Hermione watched Nott in disgust when it dawned on her. She peered around Nott to see Malfoy. "You knew they would come for us, didn't you?"

"Of course, I knew!" Malfoy roared, marching back toward them. "I told you all that we needed to move!"

"You could have told us that you knew they were coming!" she cried.

"I told you!" he screamed back at her, sticking his index finger into her chest and nearly sending her falling backwards.

"Easy, Draco," Nott held his hand out between them again.

But Hermione had no intention of backing down. "You didn't tell me you had inside information."

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "That the Death Eaters were after us all was hardly inside information."

"But you – you led him right to us!" Hermione screamed, overcome by rage. "It was all your fault!"

"It wasn't his fault, Hermione," Nott said.

"You could have told me," Hermione shook her head, watching Malfoy's mask crack as his eyes betrayed his torment. "That you were following Voldemort's orders to get us out. But that you had defected."

"I guess Potter's not the only one with trust issues," Malfoy snapped.

Tears rolled down Hermione's face. "I would've believed you."

"Like hell you would've," Malfoy spat. He turned once more and stalked off.

Hermione tore her gaze away from the back of his blond head. She blinked back her tears, swallowed back the lump in her throat, stared into the white landscape of the birch and snow and birch again. She sighed finally, and looked up at Nott. "I've got to go."

Nott's face paled. "Go where?"

"I have to find out what they're doing to our friends."

Nott shook his head. "You're not thinking straight."

Hermione blinked at him coldly. "Unless you already know."

Nott watched her soberly. "Unfortunately, I was not privy to that kind of intelligence."

"Well," she said, "in that case, you're of no use to me."

"Hermione." He clasped her hand in his when she began to walk away. "What are you going to do? Just walk in unarmed? Then what?"

"I'll think of something on the way," she said.

"If you're doing this to spite us, you've made your point."

"I'm doing this," she said, taking his hand off her arm, "to save my friends."

"Then I'm coming with you," he said.

Hermione looked back at the fire in the middle of the clearing, still burning. The logs situated around it. It almost looked inviting. Something she'd grown accustomed to. A home she longed to return to every time she ventured out. "You and I both know that you're needed here. Ginny needs you. Besides, it'll be much easier to spy if I'm on my own. Two bodies are twice as easy to spot as one."

Slowly, Nott's hand began to slide away from hers. And then she turned away and began to walk.

Behind her, she heard Malfoy's voice, gaining on them. "Where is she going?" At first, it was in a mildly irritated tone. Then, she heard him yell. "What? You're just going to let her go? Are you out of your mind?"

She heard Nott's steady voice. "She's her own person. I can't stop her."

"I can." Was Malfoy's answer.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly to shut him out. She continued to walk.

"Granger!" She could hear the snow crunching behind her as he ran to catch up. She contemplated running but realized how childish that would be. She needed to conserve her energy. "Granger, stop for a moment, will ya?"

She sighed, stopped walking. He deserved a goodbye at least.

He caught up with her quickly. "What's this about? You're leaving on my account?" He tried to make light of the situation as he stopped to catch his breath.

"It has nothing to do with you," she said curtly.

He fixed her with a knowing look. "Let's not do that, Granger. Let's not insult one another's intelligence."

"Let's not," she said.

He let out a heavy – agonized sigh. "You can't go, Granger. You can't go in there."

"Why not?"

Malfoy watched her with a growing intensity. "Because you won't come back."

"You clearly don't know what I'm capable of."

"I'm not letting you go on your own –"

"And I'm not letting you come with me."

Malfoy stood his ground. "I'm coming, Hermione!"

"For all we know, he's got some tracker on you, Malfoy! How else would they have been able to find us – twice?"

His eyes shifted back and forth between hers. He looked like he was in possession of a tortured soul – his own. "I am begging you, don't do this."

She needed to look away from the misery that consumed his gaze.

"Are you doing this to hurt me?"

Her eyes shot back up at him. "Contrary to what you might believe, Malfoy, not everything is about you."

He smirked through his sadness. "Just most things?"

She scoffed, "I'd love to be around on the day you realize that Draco Malfoy is as insignificant as the rest of us."

She felt his fingertips connect with her own, somewhere below her line of sight. "You're hardly insignificant. So, I'll take it, I suppose." Every particle between them seemed to be charged as he moved closer.

"That was the wrong interpretation, Malfoy."

He continued sifting his fingers through hers. "What if I never see you again?"

She smiled wistfully. "A world without Hermione Granger."

He lowered his head against hers. "You know I can't fathom that."

They could've stood indefinitely but it wouldn't have been long enough. She was breathless and it dazed her. Being this close to something that her entire being – except her rational mind – wanted. The flames that had danced hypnotically before her eyes, she imagined they were devouring her. Taking her far away in a sea of fire. Until she was no longer anywhere at all.

She thought of gasping as she kept her head above the surface of the blaze. It burned within her, out of her. At the tips of her fingers, where his hand had skimmed along them; in her head, where he rested his forehead; inside her chest, where the spark had been lit. Was this how she was meant to disappear? She was pulled in his direction. Not by him. By some other, invisible force.

She could pull him in too. He would come willingly. She could sweep him up within the inferno of her mind. But she cared enough about him now, to wonder how much it would break him if she, in fact, did not return.

"If I leave now," she said quietly, almost against his mouth, "I'll make it there by nightfall."

He moved his lips as they hovered above hers, as if they were kissing her. But they weren't. He clasped the fingers he was toying with and sighed unsteadily, closing his eyes. She began to separate herself from him, and he took her by the face, then. His hands over her cheeks. He looked intently over her face, into her eyes. "Come back to me."

…

"Where is Hermione?" I say.

He takes his hand off mine and slides it into his back pocket, producing a silver flask. He unscrews the cap in silence. The absinthe. For special occasions, as he likes to say.

"Do you know?" I push.

"Dead," he says and takes a swig.

I feel myself recoil, my body reacts even though my mind hasn't quite caught up.

"I hope," he adds. "I wouldn't want to consider the alternative."

I'm suddenly incredibly cold. I almost can't speak because I think that I might cry. "Have you ever gone looking for her?"

He looks down at the swirling waters of the Thames and I think for a moment that he might throw himself into them. I almost prepare myself to catch him before he can go through with it. But he just stares down at the darkness beneath us. "I look for her everywhere."

It's not what I meant, but I don't persist. He's been through enough. And I wish I could take it from him. His pain.