Chapter 7
October 2001
"Ron wants to hang out with us more often," Harry announced over lunch.
Hermione nodded, putting down the piece of naan she'd been holding. "I know. He stopped by my office yesterday to tell me."
Harry leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her. "Ron stopped by."
"Yeah."
"He stopped by your office," Harry pressed.
"Yes, I just said that."
"Yesterday."
"Yes, Harry," Hermione replied, exasperated. "Ron stopped by my office yesterday and told me he wanted us three to hang out more."
Harry leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrow sardonically. "And that's all he said?"
Hermione met his gaze. She was trying to keep the truth from showing on her face, but she was awful at hiding things. Harry let out a sigh, and she finally caved.
"Fine. He came to talk to me about you. He was warning me that you were on your way to Malfoy Manor (which I already knew) and wanted to be sure I was on the lookout for that thing you do when you try to handle everything alone (which I was already planning to look out for)."
"Yeah. I thought so." Harry sighed and picked up his fork and started moving food around on his plate.
"We love you and sometimes we worry about you, Harry. Okay? That's all."
He refrained from saying something rude, since he knew she was right. And hadn't he just talked to Ron about Hermione and her parents behind her back?
"Well, was it okay? You seem fine," Hermione said gently.
"I am. It was...different. It makes sense, of course they'd want to renovate. I'm sure their memories are even worse than ours. And Malfoy seemed to know better than to have our meeting in the Drawing Room. So, yeah, I'm good." He'd been up half the night battling nightmares, but that wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. He had nightmares even without trips to Malfoy Manor.
Hermione reached across the table and grabbed his free hand. "I'm glad."
Harry nodded and gave her a small smile, so she'd know he wasn't angry with her for talking about him with Ron. She returned his smile, then pulled her hand back and resumed eating. After finishing her bite of naan, she turned the topic back to Ron.
"Ron and I made plans for dinner on Saturday. I knew you were free since we were planning to paint cabinets. Is that okay?"
"Yeah."
"Should we invite Ginny? Have an awkward double-date-with-exes reunion?"
Harry shrugged. "Sure, I'll ask. Or...maybe you should ask. That would be less weird."
"Okay. I'll owl her when I get back to work." Harry was looking distantly at something behind Hermione and she took a moment to study his appearance. He looked tired, but otherwise okay. There wasn't that hint of sadness in his eyes that appeared when he was feeling down.
Harry caught her looking at him with that thoughtful, concerned expression he knew so well, then stuck his tongue out. "I'm fine, Hermione!"
"Just making sure...You'd do the same if things were reversed."
"Yeah, yeah."
November 2001
Ginny had declined Hermione's invitation to the awkward Double-Date-With-Exes Reunion. She'd said she was busy with Quidditch practices as the Harpies prepared for the finals and with her limited free time, she was running drills with a teammate while she prepared for the final stages of tryouts for a couple of the international teams.
The night out with Ron and Harry hadn't been as bad as Hermione had feared. It was awkward to start with but before long, the three of them were talking and joking easily. Ron was so easy to get on with, which was one of the things Hermione admired most about him, especially since she's always been reserved. And she was glad Ron had insisted they all hang out, since, once she finally had the opportunity to spend a few hours in close proximity with him (without Lucy in the way) she noticed that she was no longer attracted to him.
Her heart didn't flutter once that night, and she never got the urge to hold his hand or wrap her arm around him. She was over Ron. She didn't know when, but sometime in the past few months, it had the thought of him with Lucy didn't bother her as much as it had before.
It was several weeks before Ginny owled Hermione and said she finally had a free night to spend with her. They were currently in Ginny's flat. Ginny was sitting on the sofa, braiding Hermione's hair, while Hermione sat on the floor between her legs, telling Ginny about some new law she'd presented to the Elders and was still waiting to hear their final decision on.
When Ginny was finished, she patted Hermione's shoulders. "Okay, done. Let me see you."
Hermione took a seat next to Ginny on the sofa and turned to face her. Ginny nodded approvingly. "I like how it's pulled back, it draws more attention to your face. Usually, even when your hair is up, it's all around your face, pulling the eye away."
Hermione picked up her wand and cast a quick mirror spell. "It looks weird," she said as she studied her reflection. She saw what Ginny meant about her face being more of the focus, but she wasn't sure that was a good thing.
"It looks good." Ginny insisted, reading her thoughts.
"I don't know," Hermione said absently, still studying her reflection. "Harry told me recently I wear my hair one of two ways, on a schedule…"
"What's your point? You don't want to add a third style? No room in the schedule?" Ginny teased.
Hermione shrugged and dropped the mirror spell with a wave of her wand. She was thinking of what witches like Regina Archibald would write about her if they got a hint that she was making more of an effort with her appearance. Would they say she was trying too hard? Or maybe insist it still wasn't hard enough? She knew she shouldn't care, but she did, and was disappointed in herself for that.
"Tell me something," Ginny said, eyeing Hermione curiously.
"Yeah?"
"In what context did Harry tell you that? About your hair schedule?"
"What?" A blush began to spread across Hermione's face and she dropped Ginny's gaze so she wouldn't notice. But she wasn't quick enough, Ginny caught the unmistakable glint of guilt in Hermione's eyes.
Ginny thought back to the conversation she'd had with Hannah and Neville after Hermione's birthday party. Hannah and Neville had been walking up the path from Luna and Rolf's place and hadn't noticed Ginny was just behind them, listening to their conversation.
"Did you catch the secret rendezvous on the patio, right when we started playing exploding snap?" Neville had asked Hannah.
"Yeah, and I didn't miss that beautiful scarf she came back wearing," Hannah replied. "The kind of gift a boyfriend would give, wouldn't you say? And why did he have to give it to her in secret?"
"I know...I wish I'd seen all that before I placed my bet. I would have picked a sooner date. What was I thinking, guessing July? Who had the earliest date, again?"
Hannah let out a small laugh. "Rolf. Can you believe out of all of us, he might win? And he's known them for the least amount of time."
"I want to get in on that bet," Ginny had chimed in, causing Hannah and Neville to jump. The looks on their faces had been comical, and Ginny had to stifle a laugh.
"Oh, Ginny, uh-" Neville had started, searching, and failing, for the right set of words to say to erase the awkwardness of the situation.
Ginny waved dismissively. "You were talking about Harry and Hermione, right? And the bet is about how long it will take for them to finally get together?"
Neville had nodded, at a complete loss for words.
"I want in," Ginny had repeated.
Hannah had started talking, since Neville was still speechless. "Okay...the earliest date is Rolf's in March, the Spring Equinox, and the latest is next July, Harry's Birthday." She spoke slowly, as if waiting for Ginny to finally snap and start yelling at them.
"I think it will be sooner," Ginny had said confidently. "January. And if you need a specific date, I'll go with January 1st."
"Right," Hannah said, turning to exchange a confused look with Neville.
"Uh...this doesn't bother you?" Neville had asked, finally finding his voice again.
Ginny motioned for them to continue walking, falling into step next to Neville. "Of course it bothers me," she'd admitted. "I was with Harry for three years and loved him for even longer than that. But I couldn't give him the future he wanted and if Hermione can, then who am I to get in their way? And I'm not blind, I've seen the chemistry between them, especially lately."
Also, she'd thought, but hadn't said aloud, this would massively assuage my guilt. She knew if Harry moved on quickly, especially with someone as incredible as Hermione, she'd feel so much better about everything.
Ginny focused back on Hermione as she wondered what it was Hermione felt guilty about. Surely nothing had happened with Harry. If that were the case, she was certain she would have read it off Hermione's face as soon as they met up today. Maybe they'd just had a "moment," or Hermione had had an inappropriate thought about Harry.
"You seem off, Hermione."
Hermione waved away the question. "I'm just in a weird mood."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"A few months ago, you told me you were ready to start dating again, and that's why you said yes to Nott when he asked you out." Hermione nodded, frowning.
"Yeah, I know that didn't go as planned," Ginny continued, "but that was months ago, and you haven't been on any other dates since. What happened?"
Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her lap. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. No one else has asked me out, I guess, and I'm not against asking a wizard out, I just haven't met anyone I like."
"But you would go out with someone, if they asked you?"
"Yeah. If I liked them."
Ginny nodded and considered her next words. This might not be fair, since it could influence the bet, but Hannah and Neville had never set any specific rules about interfering with Harry and Hermione's relationship. Ginny wasn't 100% convinced they liked each other. She thought they did, but there was a chance she was wrong. And whether Hermione liked Harry or not, she needed to hear this.
Ginny placed her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "I'm going to tell you something that you're going to find uncomfortable."
Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. "Okay…"
"Just listen, okay?"
"You're scaring me, now." Hermione looked into Ginny's light brown eyes and waited for her to speak. She looked like she was still considering if she actually wanted to say what was on her mind, which made Hermione even more nervous.
"Okay, here it goes. You and Harry are dating."
"What?!" Hermione tried to lean away, out of Ginny's grasp, but Ginny just tightened her grip.
"Just listen. You eat out alone together, you cook together, and you're renovating a bloody kitchen together. I didn't even do that with Harry. You went to the St. Mungo's Fundraiser with him a few weeks ago. And most of the time, when we all meet up as a group, you two arrive together, and leave together."
Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ginny raised her hand to silence her. "Maybe you're not snogging and shagging, but in every other sense, you're a couple."
When Ginny was finally finished, she dropped Hermione's arms. Hermione crossed her own arms over her chest and glared back at Ginny. "Is it time for my rebuttal?"
"Sure," Ginny sighed.
Hermione opened her mouth and was about to refute every point Ginny had brought up, but she could tell by the look in Ginny's eye that she was set on this opinion. And she considered that, maybe, this accusation was more about Ginny than Hermione and Harry.
Ginny had seemed off for months and initially, Hermione had chalked it up to her being so busy with Quidditch and down about her mum not supporting her plan to play internationally, but perhaps there was something else going on.
So, instead of arguing, she said, "What is this really about? Because I think you know Harry and I are not, in fact, dating. So, tell me, what's really going on here?"
Ginny bit her lip and shook her head. "Hermione, this is not about anything else, honestly." She sighed. "Am I jealous of this newfound closeness between you and Harry? Yes. Am I going to be sad if you actually started dating for real? Also, yes. But do I want to stop it? No. If you really are in love with each other, I'm not going to get in the way."
"We aren't," Hermione cut in.
"Fine. But either way, it's important for you to realize what's going on here. If you like Harry, you need to date him for real. If you don't like him, you two need to stop this."
"Stop what? Being friends?" Hermione snapped. "Because that's all that's 'going on here,'" she added mockingly.
"No…" Ginny drew out the word. "You need to stop being a couple. Do you know why no one is asking you out? Because they all think you're taken."
"That's just the story in the papers."
"A story everyone believes is true, Hermione."
"I'm not dating him. And I don't like him like that. We really are just friends," Hermione said defensively.
"Then you need to start acting more like just friends. Have Nott take you out again, so the wizards of London can see that Harry Potter has no claim on you."
"That's not a bad idea," Hermione said thoughtfully. "And he sort of owes me."
Hermione could see how an outsider, who didn't understand her friendship with Harry, would assume they were dating. And it wouldn't be the worst idea to go on a public date with Theo, and advertise that she was, in fact, single and willing to date. But whichever wizard asked her out next (if that ever happened), would need to understand that Harry was a big part of her life, as were Ginny, Ron, and her other friends.
When Hermione looked back at Ginny, she was staring off into the fireplace. Hermione nudged her leg. "I'm not going to date Harry. I can tell you're feeling down, and you don't need to worry about that, really."
"That's not why I'm feeling down," Ginny mumbled, keeping her eyes on the fire. "I meant what I said before - I really wouldn't get in your way."
"What happened to that whole, 'If you date Harry, I'll cut you' threat? I missed that. Let's go back to that. This supportive thing is weird."
Ginny shrugged. "That was before I thought you two dating was a real possibility."
Hermione ignored that last comment and circled back to her earlier question. "What's got you down?"
"It's - uh - not something I'm ready to talk about. But I'm fine."
Hermione started at that. She couldn't remember the last time Ginny had kept a secret from her. She leaned into Ginny's side. "The second you're ready-"
"I'll send an owl," Ginny finished for her, finally turning her head back to Hermione and giving her a warm smile.
"And it really has nothing to do with Harry?" Hermione pressed.
"It has nothing to do with Harry."
"Is it Molly related? Do I need to go hex her?"
Ginny let out a laugh. "No, it's not about my mum."
They were quiet for a while, then Ginny turned to Hermione. "Let's talk about something else. Not Harry or Mum-related."
"Okay. Do you have something in mind?"
Ginny shook her head. "No. You?"
"Uhh…" Hermione was racking her brain. "Oh! I have something. I'm going to Malfoy Manor tomorrow."
"Wait! What? Why didn't you lead with that?"
Hermione shrugged. "I've been trying hard not to think about it, otherwise I might talk myself out of it. But I think it may finally be time for me to face what happened there."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Wow. That's a big deal."
"Yeah."
"You're not going alone, are you?"
"No. I'd tell you who I'm going with, but you'll just tease me - and we agreed not to talk about him."
Ginny gave her a knowing look and Hermione shoved her palm into Ginny's face. "Yeah, I get it, okay?"
Ginny moved Hermione's hand out of her face, then smirked and shook her head.
"For the record, Ginny, you are the most mature ex-girlfriend that has ever existed. I can't believe how calmly you're talking about the idea of Harry moving on with me, your best friend (which is certainly NOT happening, by the way)."
"Sure it's not…"
Hermione pushed her, and Ginny just pushed her back. "Anyway, if things were the other way around," Hermione continued, "discounting the incest that would be involved - I would have lost it."
Ginny forced a smile on her face but couldn't maintain Hermione's gaze and looked down at her lap. Yeah, but you didn't cheat on Ron, she thought, but didn't say.
[Before completely discounting Ginny, keep in mind that there is more to this story. But first, Malfoy Manor.]
"Your hair's different," Harry declared as soon as he stepped out of the Floo into Hermione's flat the next night.
"You are more observant than the average person," she teased.
Harry stepped toward her and picked up one of her braids, regarding it critically. She put her hands on her hips and tried to ignore how close he was. "Well, what's the verdict?" she asked.
He smiled softly, and her heart skipped, because he was looking at her in that way that made her feel like the only other person in the world.
What the hell? She'd just got past this whole heart-skipping thing with Ron, and now Harry was causing it? Was Ginny right about there being something more here?
No! Of course not. Any witch would react that way if Harry looked at them like this, she told herself.
But he doesn't look at other women like this, another voice in her mind said. Just you.
Hermione's attention was drawn back to the present when Harry finally delivered his verdict about her hair, and she was glad for the distraction, since her mind had been heading somewhere crazy.
"I've never seen your hair completely out of your face like this. I like it. You look beautiful."
Hermione smiled and nodded, then turned toward the door, ready to put some distance between them.
"You didn't even cringe that time," he said as he came up behind her, taking the door from her. "I'd say that's progress." She waved him away and when she reached the hall just outside her flat, finally turned back to face him.
"Do you still want to do this?" Harry asked. He was holding the door open in case she wanted to change her mind and return to the safety of her flat.
She nodded.
Harry sighed and stepped into the hall, then closed and locked her front door. "Do you want to Apparate together or separately?"
Hermione almost said, "Separately," as she was still rattled from the weird heart-skipping, then realized she didn't know exactly where they needed to Apparate to avoid interacting with the wards around Malfoy Manor. "You can take us," she answered instead.
She placed a hand on Harry's forearm and he searched her eyes one more time, just to be sure, but he saw nothing but determination there. He felt a burst of pride. Hermione was incredibly brave. He couldn't believe she was making this trip willingly.
Harry turned on his toe and a few seconds later, they reappeared just out of sight of the Manor's front gates. He led the way along the path and Hermione fell into step alongside him.
"I'm still annoyed you had Nott set this up for you," Harry grumbled. "I told you I-"
"Yeah, yeah, we've been over this a hundred times," Hermione interrupted. "I may have asked Theo to set this up for me, but you are the person I invited to come. Because I knew if I broke down, I'd rather be with you - even though I know how much you hate crying witches."
She stopped on the path and turned to face him. "I apologize in advance if there's too much crying for you tonight."
Harry looked at her incredulously. "What are you talking about? I can handle crying witches, just fine."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Fine, maybe not any crying witch," he allowed, "but you, I can handle. You cried all the time in the tent after Ron left, and you've cried plenty over the past few months. You keep acting like I'm the same emotionally stunted teenager from Hogwarts. Give me more credit than that."
"The tent was - well, I thought I was hiding that better." Harry shook his head and she shoved him. "And the past few months...that's just been a few tears here and there. Harry..." her tone turned serious and Harry grabbed her hand.
"What is it?"
"This could be really bad - I - " She couldn't bring herself to tell him that sometimes she had debilitating panic attacks, and that she was here in an effort to finally stop them. She knew if he were aware that this trip could trigger an attack, he'd insist they turn around and leave.
Harry squeezed her hand. "We can go home and do this later."
"I know we can." She took her hand out of his and continued walking down the path. She flinched at the sound of a hooting owl, then straightened her spine and tried to calm her breathing.
As the Manor came into view, she was reminded how imposing the house was. It was larger than she remembered and luminated by an ominous, magical glow. Maybe coming at night hadn't been the best idea, she thought to herself, but she was here, and determined to get this over with.
A house elf let them in through the gates and Draco was waiting in the foyer, leaning against a table and looking bored, which Harry could immediately tell was a façade. Draco straightened as soon as he saw them and his face went blank. Occlumency, Harry thought.
"Potter, Granger," Draco said with a slight nod to each of them.
Harry sneered back, since this was his standard response to anything Draco said or did, and also because he really didn't want to be here. Hermione, unsurprisingly, was kinder. "Malfoy. Uh - thank you - for this. I know it's an odd request."
"I understand," Draco cut in. He dropped his head into his hands and when he looked up again, it was as if he'd rubbed his mask of indifference away. His mouth was set into a small frown and his eyes were pained. He spoke his next words softly, to the marble floor.
"I never wanted you hurt, Granger, honestly. And that night...I should have done something."
Harry started to respond first. "Yeah you should hav-"
"It's fine," Hermione chimed in, placing a hand on Harry's arm. "Really, Malfoy. You tried to help us as soon as we arrived and after...with your aunt... What would you have done, anyway? You would have been killed."
Draco finally looked up at her, disbelieving and Harry was right there with him. What was she doing, forgiving him so easily?
Hermione sighed. "We should all try to put it behind us."
"I am truly sorry, Granger. For all of it."
Draco was staring her down with those intense, grey eyes and she could tell that he meant his apology. She nodded. "I forgive you."
Harry wanted to interject. He wanted to insist that Draco list out everything he was sorry for. Then suggest that Hermione go home and deliberate on his apology, the same way the Elders were considering her new law.
He wanted to tell Draco how much his stupid taunts had damaged Hermione, and how she couldn't see her own worth, or take a compliment without flinching. Then, ultimately, he wanted Hermione to decide not to forgive him, at least not this easily, because he was Draco Malfoy, and was probably just saying all this in some ploy to further his family's standing in society.
But Harry didn't say all that since this night was about Hermione. Instead, he rolled his eyes.
Hermione noticed and grabbed his hand, entwining her fingers with his, then she gave him a tentative smile. He returned it reluctantly and turned to scowl at Draco, for good measure.
"Can we-?" Hermione cocked her head toward the Drawing Room.
Draco motioned for them to go inside. "I'll be out here. Take as much time as you need."
Hermione turned to the Drawing Room and stopped in the doorway. Harry was next to her, still holding her hand. He began to whisper in her ear. "Hermione, we can-"
"We're doing this, Harry," she hissed back. "Stop trying to convince me otherwise." She took one final breath, then crossed the threshold into the room.
Once inside, Hermione dropped Harry's hand and walked slowly to the spot where she'd been standing that day while Bellatrix tortured her. Everything was different. The rug, the curtains, the wall color, and even the portraits. She studied the furniture and couldn't be sure, but thought all those pieces had been switched out, too.
She looked up and noted that no one had replaced the chandelier, but they'd removed the mounting so it looked like nothing had ever hung from the ceiling. The room was lit by lamps instead, and a roaring fire. Harry was a few steps away, watching her carefully. She turned and gave him a small smile.
He approached her slowly, then took her arm - the one with the scars - and pushed her sleeve up. He closed his hand over her forearm to cover the scars, then looked up at her and dabbed at a few tears she hadn't realized had fallen with his fingertips.
"All of this was my fault," he whispered. "I set off the Taboo by saying his name. I'm so, so sorry, Hermione."
"Harry...you blame yourself for setting off the Taboo. Ron blames himself for not slapping a hand over your mouth quick enough. I blame myself for leaving the sword out, because without that, the Snatchers would have never brought us here. But it wasn't our fault. It was Voldemort's, and Bellatrix's, and all of them," she motioned back toward the foyer.
"And if it hadn't happened, we never would have made it in and out of Gringotts," she finished.
Harry took a deep breath, then tried to swallow back his own tears. He took her hand again and laced their fingers together. "Sorry," he muttered. "Today is supposed to be about you facing your demons, not me."
She squeezed his hand. "We're facing them together."
Harry's heart jolted at those words. But unlike Hermione, he didn't agonize over his response to her. He was sort of getting used to it. "Well?" he asked, motioning around the room with his free hand. "What do you think?"
"It's all completely different. I was standing right here. Malfoy and his mother were over there, by the window. Lucius was next to Bellatrix." She pointed to the ceiling. "I'm sure you've noticed that's gone."
Harry nodded, but kept his eyes on her.
"I don't know exactly what I was expecting to resolve by coming here. But perhaps knowing it's all different will help. That day really is done, and the people behind it all are gone." She squeezed Harry's hand again. "Thanks to you."
He smiled down at her and added, "And you."
Hermione looked around the room one more time, and that's when she saw it. There was one part of the room that hadn't been changed, the large stone mantle above the fireplace. The objects and pictures on top were all different, but the mantle itself was intact. She knew it well. This was what she had stared at when Bellatrix was casting Cruciatus Curses at her and yelling, and carving angry slashes into her arm.
Hermione noticed the familiar notch on the left side and remembered wondering at the time where it had come from. A backfiring spell? More scenes from that day were flooding into her mind. Bellatrix's demands that she tell her where they'd got the sword, faint pounding and yelling sounds from below, where they'd taken Harry and Ron.
That all-consuming fear that they were all going to die, starting with her, and that she'd be powerless to keep them from harming her friends, since she'd be dead, and forced to watch it all play out from behind the veil.
Harry had noticed Hermione's breathing quicken and her eyes go out of focus. "Are you okay?"
Hermione's head was going fuzzy and her heart was pounding faster than ever. Harry's words came to her as if from a great distance. She shook her head, slowly.
Harry grabbed her by the arms. "Hermione?"
"Take - take me - me - home. Now," she managed to bite out through clenched teeth. She was struggling to maintain control, but her mind was taking her away from the calm and safety of her present.
Harry acted quickly. He pulled her into his side, tucking her head into his chest, and called out to Draco.
"What is it?" Draco asked as he walked into the room. His eyes went wide when he saw Hermione.
"Set up the Floo for us," Harry cocked his head to the fireplace. "We need to leave, now."
"Is she okay?" Draco asked. Hermione was clutching Harry tightly and her face was hidden, but Draco could see that she was shaking.
"None of your fucking business, Malfoy," Harry snapped. "Just set up the Floo and remove any wards that would keep us from leaving."
Draco went to the fireplace and chanted out a few spells, which Harry guessed were to temporarily remove any wards. Then he grabbed an intricate bowl from the mantle and turned to Harry. "It's ready."
Harry pulled Hermione closer to his side and bent his head to whisper, "Okay, Hermione. We're going now."
She wrapped her arms tighter around his torso and nodded against his chest. He nearly dragged her the few paces to the fireplace and took a handful of the Floo powder Draco was holding out for them. Harry threw the powder into the fire before turning back to Hermione.
"I need to carry you, so we can Floo together," he whispered into her hair.
She nodded and when she stepped back and he finally saw her face, his chest clenched. All the color was gone from her cheeks and her eyes were wide and terrified. She'd also been biting her lip so hard that she'd drawn blood. Harry picked her up easily and she linked her arms around his head and buried her face in his neck.
He was about to step into the green flames when he was stung by something. He swore and nearly dropped Hermione, then looked around for the source of the spell that had hit him.
Draco was watching the two of them, looking concerned. "Did she hit you with her magic?" he asked when Harry focused on him.
Harry looked back at Hermione, and now that he was paying attention, he could feel the magic emanating from her in soft pulses. He was hit with another shock and swore aloud this time. What was wrong with her? He'd never known her to lose control of her magic like this.
Draco must have picked up on Harry's alarm. His voice was softer than Harry had ever heard it when he spoke next. "She's going to be fine, Potter. It's just a panic attack. Get her home and make her feel safe. It'll pass."
A panic attack? Harry looked back down at Hermione. He could feel her trembling against his chest. Of course, that's what this was. He should have recognized it immediately. He'd never considered that anyone besides him had panic attacks. But, of course, that had been rather self-involved of him. He wasn't the only person who had suffered in the war. And from the haunted look in Draco's eye, Harry guessed he had them, too.
"Thank you," Harry muttered to Draco, then, before Hermione could hit him with another burst of magic, he spoke her address, struggling to keep his voice even and clear, then stepped into the green flames.
Once they were gone, Draco calmly reapplied the wards he'd removed, then walked to a nearby chair and collapsed into it. He took several shaky breaths before summoning his house elf and ordering her to bring him a large glass of Fire Whiskey. It was several hours before he felt well enough to make the long walk back to his room.
As soon as Hermione registered that they were back in her flat, she finally stopped trying to hold herself together. She felt Harry place her on the couch, but she kept her eyes screwed shut and was trying to block out the screams, her screams from that night, and the pain, but she could feel it as clearly as if it were happening all over again.
She felt a hand on her arm and drew up all her magic in an effort to protect herself. The man touching her swore, and the familiarity of his voice momentarily snapped her out of her panic. Harry.
"You are safe," a very faint voice echoed in the back of her mind. "You're with Harry, and you're safe."
Then she heard Harry's voice. "Hermione? It's me. You're okay."
She tried to nod, but the movement disoriented her. She couldn't be sure this all wasn't just some trick. Something to get her to drop her defenses.
"What do you need?" he asked. "How can I help?"
Hermione's mind was taking her back to Malfoy Manor. She could already hear Bellatrix yelling again. But before she disappeared entirely into that hell, she managed to choke out one word: "Ron."
"Ron?" Harry repeated. Hermione didn't respond. She was clutching her knees so tight her knuckles were white and her head was buried in her legs so he couldn't see her face. He was hesitant to touch her since he didn't want to set her off again. He could almost hear the magic crackling on the surface of her skin.
He stood from the couch and took a deep breath, then struggled a few times to cast a Patronus. On his third try, his stag finally appeared and he sent it quickly to Ron.
Just two minutes later, Ron was pounding outside the door. Harry opened it with his wand, not wanting to step too far away from Hermione, just in case. In case of what, exactly, he had no idea.
"What's the emergency? What-" Ron cut off when he saw Hermione. "Fuck!"
It was clear he'd seen this before. Harry wondered how many of these she'd had over the years, and why she'd never told him.
Ron had tossed his outer robes to the side and was speaking in low tones to Hermione. "It's me, Ron. You're safe, 'Mione. I'm going to help you." He carefully touched her arms, then pulled back quickly, clearly stung by her magic.
Ron pulled his wand out of his pocket and cast a localized Shield Charm on his hand. Then he grabbed the robe he'd tossed on the sofa and wrapped one of the sleeves around his arm. He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth before reaching into the bubble of magic surrounding Hermione.
Ron let out a small grunt, but emerged a few seconds later, holding her wand. He tossed it to the side and Harry nodded, impressed. Why hadn't he thought of that? She'd be much less powerful without her wand on her.
Sure enough, Ron was holding her shoulders now. His hands were still glowing from the Shield Charm he'd applied and Harry could tell by his face he was still in pain, but it was probably considerably less. He was massaging Hermione's neck and shoulders and trying to get her to relax.
Harry was pretty sure his magic didn't do this when he was having panic attacks. Even in a moment like this, Hermione's power was impressive.
Ron turned to Harry. "Do you know which scene she's reliving?"
"Malfoy Manor," Harry provided.
Ron nodded and started moving his hands up and down Hermione's arms. "You're safe, 'Mione. Dobby got us out of there, remember? They don't have you anymore. Bellatrix is dead, Voldemort is dead, and no one is going to hurt you again."
Harry saw the glow around Hermione dissipate, and Ron let out a sigh of relief. She must not have been hurting him anymore. Ron continued to run his hands up and down her arms, then moved them to her legs, coaxing her out of her balled-up position.
Ron managed to get her to unwrap her arms around her legs and lift her head. He placed his hands on either side of her face. "She's dead, Hermione. Long dead. The people who want to kill Muggleborns are all in Azkaban and the few still out there are being rounded up by Aurors like me and Harry."
Harry stepped back into the kitchen to give them space. It was like watching a couple snog, but more intimate, somehow. Harry knew he should look away but couldn't. He was feeling slightly jealous, which was the absolute wrong emotion. But Harry had been at a complete loss for how to help her, and Ron was brilliant. That stung for some reason.
Hermione leaned forward and rested her head on Ron's chest and he wrapped his arms around her, still muttering in her ear. Harry finally looked away, and his eyes landed on a raven Patronus. He didn't know it, and noticed it wasn't here for him. It flew past Harry and stopped just behind Ron.
"Uh, Ron," Harry called.
Ron turned around, then swore. Hermione was still crying against his chest, oblivious to the Patronus in the room.
"What is it?" Harry asked. "Whose Patronus is that?"
"A new informant I've been working on for months. It's our first meeting tonight." Ron's eyes snapped to the clock on the wall.
"Oh. I'll go." Harry was already holding his robes, but Ron shook his head.
"It has to be me. This guy is so jittery and if I send someone else, he'll bolt."
"You can go," Hermione's voice chimed in, sounding broken between her sobs.
Ron tightened his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. "Hermione. If this were any other situation, I wouldn't even be considering leaving you. But this meeting is extremely important. We desperately need this bloke on our side."
Harry went to join them, kneeling next to the sofa. "If I can't cover for you there, I'll cover here," he muttered to Ron. "What do I do?"
Ron nodded. He reluctantly detangled himself from Hermione and rose from the couch. Harry took his spot and Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shirt. Harry looked at Ron for advice.
Ron sighed. "There's not much to it. She just needs to feel safe until she completely calms down. Remind her that you won't let anything happen to her. Remind her Bellatrix is dead and list out every logical argument you can think of why that night wouldn't happen again."
Harry looked down at Hermione and nodded. "Okay. I can do that."
"I'll be back straight away," Ron said, pulling on his robes. "Two hours, tops."
As soon as Harry heard him Disapparate from the other side of the door, he wrapped his arms around Hermione. She moved so she was sitting on his lap and he pulled her even closer.
"I will never let anything happen to you ever again," Harry whispered. "If they lock me up, I'll break out. If they take my wand, I'll just steal one from someone else. They taught us how to do that in training. If they beat me, or torture me, I'll endure, then escape as soon as they take a break. I'll do anything to protect you, Hermione."
She was quiet, crying silently now. Harry could feel her tears making his shirt wet. Then, after a moment, she lifted her head and said with a heartbreaking smile. "And if they kill you, you'll just - you know - survive."
Harry let out a laugh. When she laid back down against his chest, he kissed the top of her head. "Exactly."
It took Hermione about an hour to regain control of herself. Her sobs had subsided long before, but she kept feeling that darkness at the edges of her brain, threatening to pull her back. Harry had stayed in the same spot, holding her, and occasionally muttering comforting words, as she calmed down.
When she finally felt like she could speak without breaking down again, she started with, "I'm so sorry, Harry."
He leaned back so he could see her face. "What are you talking about?" His voice was rough from disuse.
Her voice was rough from crying and it cracked when she spoke again. "I'm sorry I put you through that. I thought I was ready to go back there. I was wrong."
Harry shook his head and said, a bit annoyed. "Don't apologize for this sort of thing. Ever. Okay?"
Hermione nodded in response, then laid her head back down on his chest. She listened to his heart beat and considered Ginny's words again, about her and Harry dating. She knew that sitting in Harry's lap probably was the sort of thing Ginny would say made them a couple, but she didn't care right now. There was no way she was going to abandon the comfort of his embrace.
"I can't believe I lost it in front of Draco Malfoy," she groaned.
Harry started scratching her back. "Don't worry about it. I got the sense he has panic attacks, too."
"Oh." Hermione considered that for a moment. "That makes sense, I bet he saw some really awful stuff. And he still has to live there." She shuddered and Harry stopped scratching her back and wrapped his arms around her again.
"Yeah. But enough about Malfoy. Tonight's about you, and like I said, you have no reason to be sorry. I bet that night was the worst one from the war for you."
Hermione was quiet again, counting out Harry's heart beats now. When she got to thirty-nine, she looked up and said softly, "It wasn't the worst."
"What?" He couldn't think of anything that had been as bad at that for her.
She dropped her head again before continuing. "When I have panic attacks, they're triggered by one of three scenes from the war." Harry remembered Ron asking him which scene she was reliving and figured this was what he'd been referring too. Ron probably knew all three scenes, and Harry wanted to know them, too.
"Will you tell me what they are?" he asked.
She nodded. "The night at Malfoy Manor. The day I obliviated my parents. And then the worst one, the night of the Final Battle."
"Right," Harry breathed. "Of course."
"It's not just the battle," she continued, "but one specific moment."
"What?"
She looked up at him again and he saw her eyes were lined with tears. He was surprised she had any left. "When Hagrid was carrying your body out of the forest and I thought you were dead. That was the worst," she whispered.
Harry's heart shattered into a thousand pieces. The look in her eyes was devastating. She glanced down and when she blinked, a few tears fell onto her cheeks. Harry wiped them away quickly. "I was so angry with you for doing that," she stated, still looking down.
"You never said."
"We were so busy those first few months following the war, and it wasn't fair to hold it against you, since it was the only way. But - " she finally looked up at him and plastered a smile on her face, but it didn't reach her eyes, which were still haunted. "That was the worst, not the night at Malfoy Manor."
"I'm sorry."
"I forgave you ages ago."
"I'm still sorry."
"Okay." Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall, then let out an involuntary yawn. "I should try to sleep," she announced. "I'm knackered."
"Yeah, sure."
Harry dropped his arms, but Hermione made no move to climb out of his lap. She still had her hands around his neck and was thinking again of Ginny, and what she would say if she saw them right now. But for some reason, Hermione couldn't make herself break away.
"What's wrong? Don't you want to sleep?" Harry asked.
"It's just so far away…" she moaned, her eyes staring distantly at the clock on the wall.
Harry let out a laugh, then swiftly stood up, holding Hermione like a damsel in distress. She squealed, surprised by the sudden movement.
"What?" he asked with a smile. "I'm being chivalrous. The lady needs to sleep, and she's too lazy to get up and walk twenty feet to her bed. That's where I come in."
Hermione just laughed in response. They were in her room now and he gently laid her down on the bed, but she didn't remove her grip on his neck. He was stuck, awkwardly bending over her. "Uh, Hermione…?"
"Yeah?"
"You can remove your death grip. I'm not going to leave you alone in here."
"You're not?" She reluctantly pulled her arms back.
"No." Harry kicked off his shoes and climbed onto her bed, sitting up with his back resting against the headboard.
"I know this is weird, but, uh, thank you for staying." Hermione sat up on the bed and started pulling her hair out of the braids. It felt like ages ago that Ginny had done her hair, but it was just last night. When she was finished, she felt for her wand, but it was gone. Her heart started racing again.
"Where's my wand?"
Harry placed a calming hand on her leg. "It's in the other room. I'll get it." A moment later, the wand flew into his hand and he handed it to Hermione. She immediately felt calmer with it in her possession. Then she realized why it had been taken from her.
She blushed and looked down at her lap. "How badly did I hurt him?"
Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "Not at all. He's a pro."
"Yeah." Hermione turned the lights off with her wand, then closed the curtains, then the door. She placed it on the nightstand and settled into bed, under the covers, turning on her side to face Harry.
"Will you please be here when I wake up?" It was a question she would have only had the nerve to ask in the dark.
"Of course. It'll either be me or Ron. We're not leaving you alone tonight."
And because Hermione was feeling weak, and exhausted, and because her defenses were down, her mind let her say exactly what she was feeling in her heart, without filtering it through a series of "shoulds" or "shouldn'ts".
"Not Ron," she whispered, grabbing his hand with both of hers. "You."
Harry stared at her hands, which were gripping his tightly, and he gulped, at a complete loss for words. There was a torrent of emotions flowing through him, but he couldn't identify them properly because they were all mixing together. He took several deep breaths and looked at their clasped hands, their skin a dark blue in the low light of the room.
When he finally found the right words, he whispered them into the still night, but Hermione was asleep by then and didn't hear them. "Not Ginny, you. I should have picked you."
A/N: Okay that was heavy. And honestly, the next chapter will probably be heavy, too. But then I'm going to tip-toe back to the lighter tone you all love so much. Thanks for reading!