Chapter 17

The door was right in front of him, mocking him as it always did. Dario looked at the clock hanging at the wall, down the hall. The Weasley kid left exactly 10 minutes ago, but he had to make sure that he wouldn't come back, before he entered.

He had also sent the guards on a much welcomed break, making sure that he would not be interrupted. At this point he was so used to the imperius curse, it was almost ingrown in his yew-wood wand. When their break was over in about 30 minutes, they would return to the DMLE thinking that they were off-duty. It would be their downfall, and surely, they would be without jobs by the end of the day. He would make sure of it. He would also make sure that they were replaced by someone more… trustworthy.

That would be his chance to show old Grey that he was still in it for the long run.

55.

54.

53.

52.

His palms were sweaty inside the leather-gloves, but his mind was as clear as ever. The clock was ticking silently in his head as he was looking at it, counting down to the exact minute that he could enter. Somewhere between 8.55 and 9.10, the DMLE would be alerted, and he would have to be long gone from the wizarding hospital by then. That left him with about an hour to do what he had to, and get to his case location.

As far as everyone knew, he was heading to Greenwich where a witch had attacked a muggle in broad daylight. Well, that was what he had told his superiors anyway. Those bastards knew nothing, of course.

6.

5.

4.

This was his chance. He took one last look in each direction before stepping closer to the door. Within the past 10 minutes, he had calmly taken down every ward on the door and replaced them with his own. All that was left was a simple Alohomora.

When the lock clicked under his wand, he smiled wickedly and slowly opened the door.

Once inside, he slowly closed and locked the door, while his eyes were on the brown haired witch, sleeping in the bed. Her body was curled around the covers and she was hugging the pillow to her face. Her beautiful hair was everywhere, just like he had imagined it. He was struggling to maintain his composure, finally being so close to her.

She made a face when he got closer, like she had smelled something uncomfortable. She then snuggled closer to the pillow and then sighed contentedly. She must be dreaming.

It had been so long since they had been in the same room. He had missed the smell of her shampoo, the sound of her voice. The curves of her body.

Soon, she would be his.

He went to stand beside her bed. Noticing a piece of parchment at her night table, he picked it up.

"Had to get back to the shop. See you later xx"

Bastard. He crumbled up the paper, and pocketed it. He deserved for her to think that he had just left her there alone. And defenceless. oh so defenceless.

He took a closer look at her. She had started filling out over the few days that she had been in the hospital. Apparently she was eating properly again. He growled. If she hadn't run, he would have taken care of her himself - and she would understand everything. That time in the dungeons had been nothing more than a misunderstanding. He would have gotten her out if it hadn't been for the brats.

She was supposed to be his after all. She was promised to him. Weasley would regret getting in his way.

Determined to get his way, he took his wand, pointed it at Hermione's eyes and muttered a spell. Confident that it had worked perfectly, he removed a stray hair from her cheek. She stirred a little so he removed his hand quickly, yet put it back on her cheek again and caressed it softly. A spectator may have seen this as an act of kindness and love. A touch from a loved one to another.

"Wake up little bird." He said softly, still caressing her face gently. "Wake up, my darling."

In front of him, Hermione slowly woke up. Her brows frowned and she blinked furiously.

"What the… Why can't I…" She stammered out, panic visibly rising up in her. As she grew more and more distressed, her hands flew to her eyes frantically clawing at them and the surrounding area, obviously trying to remove whatever was blinding her.

"Shh… Shhh, it's okay." He said, trying to calm her, but it had the opposite effect.

Her head whipped in his direction, but even though she couldn't see him. He could have sworn that they made eye contact before she pushed herself further up the bed and to the side, in the opposite direction of where he was standing, all while screaming hysterically.

In her attempt to get away from him, she fell off the bed and landed on her arm and shoulder. He heard the snap of her bones breaking, but it seemed she hadn't noticed as she pushed herself back up and crawled backwards up against the wall furthest away from him.

"Get away from me!" She screamed frantically at him, her arm outstretched, waving him away.

"It's okay, little bird. It's okay, I'm going to protect you." He said soothingly, walking closer to her.

"Like hell you are, get away from me!" She snarled at him.

Yet again, he stepped closer to her. Assessing the situation like a carnivore eyeing their prey. "Calm down, darling, I won't hurt you." He whispered at her, as he kneeled in front of her. He could see how frightened she was, sitting there up against the wall, shaking and with tears running down her cheeks. He slowly lifted his hand and put it on her arm, wanting to pry it away from where it was situated between them. What he hadn't put into his calculations, was Hermione being, well, Hermione.

"NO!" She screamed and he found himself flung across the room in a flash. It was like everything stood still until he hit the wall in the other end of the room, and then fell to the floor, hard. His head was hurting and he tasted something that reminded him of iron. When he looked down, he saw small blood drops on the floor under him.

Damnit! He thought to himself, and removed the trail of blood with a shish of his wand and a whispered scourgify.

When he looked up in the direction of his witch, he found her unconscious, slumped against the wall, halfway laying down on the floor. This was his chance….

He got up, losing his balance halfway because of the fall and ended back on the floor again. He breathed out a hard, ragged breath, and got up again. This time putting a hand on the chair that stood nearby. He growled in anger. How could she do this to him? Who the bloody hell did she think she was, attacking her mate like that. She would regret it. She would be his again.

When he had secured his footing, he stalked closer to her, his eyes never leaving her closed ones. Slowly, but so very surely.

….

Harry woke up the morning after the great reunion, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon and broom polish.

"Mmhh," he hummed happily and cuddled closer to Ginny, wrapping his arm around her waist, his hand resting on her abdomen. "You smell nice love, did you use that new shampoo when you showered last night? I didn't even notice you coming to bed."

Ginny stretched at best she could, considering the person wrapped around her. "I did, I really like the smell and feel of it." She yawned and stretched again, "You were dead-asleep when I came to bed. What time is it?" Ginny was in no means a morning-person, and it showed. If she could stay in bed until the better part of 10 in the morning, she would be happily content, not to mention, less grouchy. Unfortunately for her, Harry had turned out to be the exact opposite. Waking up somewhere between 6 and 7 in the morning was quite normal for him unless he had been drinking.

He turned his head slightly and looked at the ceiling where the time was projected onto. "Just past 7.30." He said, turning back to her.

"7.30? Harry James Potter, that must be a new record for you on a non-alcoholic evening." She mocked, followed by yet another deep yawn. She snuggled deeper into her pillow with every intention of going back to sleep. she wasn't needed at the office until 10.30 anyway. She laughed lightly when he snuggled closer to her, while purposely pushing her pillow out of the way, putting his arm in its place.

"You're such a cuddler. So much of a cuddler, that I'll agree to give you another 30 minutes. Just this once." She smiled at him.

"I guess, I'll take what I can get." He laughed, and snuggled closer to her neck while his hand started drifting.

….

At 9.05 he arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and walked towards his office. The department was busy as always, and he strolled happily through the natural mayhem, feeling a sense of stability. Everything, it seemed, was the way it was supposed to today.

Today was a good day.

Just before he reached his office, he noticed that the desk of his second in command was empty. He frowned, trying to remember if he himself had forgotten a meeting or something important. Looking at the desk he saw nothing but casefiles, old school photographs, a half-full coffee cup, quills and parchments. Nothing out of the ordinary, telling him where he might be. He looked up and around at the nearest desks. Locking eyes with a new auror he asked: "Do you know where Greyson is?"

"Actually yes, we received an owl from him early this morning, to let you know that he would be going somewhere in East London to deal with an urgent case. We didn't receive any reports in that part of town though, so my guess is some sort of favor for a friend." He shrugged, and went back to his paperwork.

Harry nodded slowly and went into his office. It wouldn't be the first time his coworker went to help a friend getting out of trouble. As long as he didn't do anything illegal, who was he to judge? He himself had drawn on all kinds of powers and sources within the DMLE trying to find Hermione after all. He definitely wasn't one to point fingers, when it wasn't needed.

He barely made it to his chair before he heard yelling in the hallways. He put down his cloak and peeked outside, almost getting run down by Neville who came running at fast speed to his office.

Neville put a hand at the door frame, steadying himself as he stuttered in between breaths; " Her-mione! - Her-mione's - been attacked!" When he had given his message he pushed off of the doorframe and ran in the direction of the mainroom. Harry didn't see where he went or what he did, as he was already halfway back to the apparition point.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" He whispered to himself as he stepped out of the apparation point at St. Mungos, and ran past the reception desk, towards the stairs. No way in hell, was he going to wait for the damn elevator at 9 in the morning when the rest of the world apparently needed to visit their loved ones at the only magical hospital in Britain.

He took the first half of the stairs two at a time, a hand on the railing pulled himself upwards. Faster! Faster! Faster!

When he made it to the fourth floor he flung the door open, and ran to her room, clutching his side as he painfully forced air into his lungs. The two guards were standing outside her room, being properly scowlded by Ron. Harry was too far down the hall to make out the hushed words, but he could see the ears and neck of his best friend going scarlett red. they had their asses served for something and Harry had an idea about why. One of them had both hands in his hair, gripping it hard, obviously agitated while the other had his hands hanging limply by his side. Ron hissed at them, tapping his index finger into the palm of the other hand, like he was pointing out several important things. Harry made it within a meter and a half of them before the guards realized that he was there. They went completely still, straightened their backs and put their hands behind them, as they were supposed to when in presence of a superior. Ron instantly noticed their changes in appearance and looked behind him, noticing Harry, he nodded curtly and pointed a thump in the direction of the room, "She's still in there. I already called for the healer, but this is her morning off so she may take a while."

"Thanks," He said to Ron, before locking eyes with first one of the guards, then the other, "I'll deal with you two later." He sneered, while stepping past them and into the room, closing the door behind him.

Inside, he quickly looked around trying to take every detail in.

Something smelled... Tangy…

He found Hermione in the corner to his left and stilled in horror at the sight that met him. Hermione sat looking frantically around while being comforted by George. She was sobbing so hard that it was a miracle she was breathing through it. But what shocked him was the large, angry, red scratchmarks she had all over the upper part of her face. He took a quick step in her direction, but was stopped by one look from George, who was softly nodding his head at him. He was hit by a hard mixture of guilt, grief and anger. He wished that he could be beside her as her best friend, but it seemed that they all needed him to be in full auror-mode right now. He quickly pushed his feelings away to be handled later, before they took over.

At first glance, he saw no signs of there ever having been anyone in there that weren't supposed to. The curtains were still drawn, the furniture hadn't been moved - he went to the bed and crouched down, narrowing his eyes, he looked at the floor by the wheels on the bed. There were marks on the floor, like the bed had been pushed with the wheels still locked in position. He looked to his right towards the table and chairs that were placed directly opposite the bed. He could see markings by the table legs - also on the floor. They had obviously been pushed as well.

He looked up. The light fixture had obviously exploded, discoloring on the ceiling moving away from where Hermione was hunched. He quickly looked at his best friend, then at the opposite part of the room by the table, then back to her, and finally back to the wall by the table again. He went there and put his hand on the wall, moving it slowly back and forth. There were no dents in the wall - and still no obvious signs that someone had been there. Whoever it was, was magical and meticulous in hiding their identity and the fact that they had even been there.

He kneeled and drew the palm of his hand across the floor, feeling for any difference in texture, hidden objects - anything really.

The floor was clean. Too clean for a room that hadn't been properly cleaned since Hermione had arrived in the room. There would have had to be some dirt from shoes and coats, perhaps some crumbs from a piece of bread dropped on the floor, water left from when someone had washed their hands and not dried them properly before exiting the bathroom. Yet, he found absolutely nothing. Scourgified.

With his brows furrowed in concentration, he went to Hermione's side and put a gentle hand on her left shoulder. She immediately sank into his touch, relishing in the comfort of the close proximity.

"Just a second Harry, then I promise she's all yours. I'm going to lift you onto the bed now. Alright?" George asked, his voice strained, before he carefully lifted Hermione up in his arms, carrying her to the bed where he warily deposited her. He then took a few steps backwards, "I'm right here, Curly," he said assuringly.

He sat himself on the bed in front of Hermione, who was sitting with her legs crossed, her right arm inspecting the scratch marks while the other laid limp in her lap. She was hiccuping lightly, having stopped properly crying while he was investigating the room. He put his hand on her left shoulder again, slowly drawing it down until he caught her hand and slowly took a proper hold of it. He felt her relaxing a bit at his touch.

Apart from her injuries, her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

"I need to know what happened, 'Mione" He said lightly, trying to project some of his calmness back at her. It didn't work.

"I don't - I don't know." She said, releasing a low sob. It seemed that she stopped her emotions from escalating properly, when she continued; "I really don't know. I don't remember anything. I just - I can smell him so strongly, and- and I can't see anything!" she hiccupped, "and what is wrong with my arm?!" She sobbed and succumbed to fully crying yet again, carefully drawing herself up into a ball of self-protection. He could tell that she was scared and she wasn't the only one. George was quickly at her side once again, enveloping her in his arms as best he could.

"She was supposed to be safe here." George said in a low voice to Harry, his eyes hard as ice. "She was supposed to be safe."

"I know." He said, "I know... " Harry gave Hermione one last squeeze before he got up, knocked three rapid times at the door before stepping back. Ron opened the door quickly, locking eyes with Harry. When Harry nodded his head in the direction of the room, Ron came in.

Ron sadly eyed Hermione, that was once again coming down in her emotional rollercoaster. "What's the status?" Ron asked.

"I can find no evidence that anyone has been in here, except for the smell. I'm sure you noticed it?" Ron nodded confirmingly, "She has no memories of anyone being in here. I suspect a memory charm, but we'll get her healer to confirm or deny that momentarily. She seems to have something wrong with her eyes, but I don't know what or why. Also, I think that she had some kind of magical burst; I found marks in the floor by the bed, chair and table, also the lights exploded. I don't think that's what's caused her injuries, though. We'll have the healer take a look at that as well... What the hell happened, Ron?" Harry asked, feeling more agitated than he probably should at the moment.

"I don't know much, I'm afraid… I arrived with George and noticed that the idiots out front weren't there. We ran when we noticed, and found Hermione unconscious in the corner. After that, I sounded the alarm. About a minute later, the guards arrived and then you came."

"What did they have to say for themselves?" Harry asked, in full auror mode.

"Bloody nothing. They don't remember anything other than the alarm sounding and then suddenly finding themselves in the break room downstairs. Before that, Sam remembers kissing his daughter goodnight, and Alex fed his dog." He said, shrugging and closing his notebook.

"Sounds like a well executed Imperius curse."

"It does. I don't think we'll get anything more out of them, to be honest." He said dejectedly. "Does she have to stay here, when we can't even keep her safe? There must be some other way..." He whispered.

"Yesterday, she suggested staying with George when she was released by her Healer. Hermione, George, you and I are the only ones who know this, and no one else can know." Ron nodded acknowledgingly, "Seeing as so few know about their relationship, it may actually work. Having her at my place for longer periods of time would be too obvious... Also, she would probably love helping George out with his products."

A smile slowly creeped up Ron's face, "Hermione being safe, in close proximity to George, making potions, while I get to spend more time with Violet because I don't have to make potions that I'll fail miserably in anyway? Sounds like a win to me,"

"You're such an idiot," Harry sighed with a sad smile on his lips. "Why don't you head back to the department and I'll update you later?"

"Sir Idiot is on the way," He said, making a mocking salut at Harry.

Ten minutes later Healer Magnus and Malfoy returned, one looking more serious than the other. When they entered, Harry noticed that the shift change had been done, and there were new guards by the door. Thank god.

"Will someone tell me what in Merlin's name is going on?" Healer Magnus said as she immediately went to Hermione and started casting multiple diagnostic spells.

"Well… I'm not really sure how much I can tell you…" Hermione started, looking uncomfortably around the room with her sad, bloodshot eyes, like she was having trouble taking it all in. George put a discreet hand on her shoulder, careful not to intervene in Healer Magnus' work. Hermione took a deep breath and continued: "I literally woke up sitting in the corner of the room, with no vision whatsoever and a broken arm - and I don't know how I got there."

"Wait - so you're telling me that you can't see anything? Not even shadows?" Magnus said, eyebrows deeply furrowed. She didn't wait for Hermione to finish shaking her head before she carefully lifted her head up and lit her wand, mowing it in front of Hermione's open eyes.

"Does anyone here know more about the situation than Miss Granger does?" She said through hard concentration and Harry repeated what he had told Ron. Nothing was said while he gave the information, she just kept examining her eyes from different angles. She then suddenly turned off the wand light, before whispering "finite incantatem,".

Hermione gasped and blinked rapidly, before releasing a shuddering breath. "Oh, thank god I was worried I'd have to live with that as well," she said relieved, and leaned tiredly into George who had unconsciously moved closer to her.

"We're not quite done yet, dear." Magnus delicately lifted Hermione's broken arm and tapped it several places with her wand. The arm seemed to come together before their very eyes and after a couple of minutes, Hermione was moving it freely again. The healer conjured a sling and helped it on before turning to Malfoy. "It looks like obliviation, but it's not really my forté. Will you take a look at her head while I get her some potions?" When he confirmed, she left the room.

When she returned a few minutes later, he told her that she was right. "Unfortunately," He continued, "there's nothing we can do about it. The only one who can counter obliviation is the caster of the spell. But, there doesn't seem to have been any harm done to her other than removing her vision. My only guess for a motive is to hide his identity." He shrugged with a hand to his chin, seemingly deep in thought. "It's the only thing that makes sense. All things considered." Hermione nodded solemnly. She knew all too well about the fronts and backs of the obliviation charm.

"Don't you dare give me that look, Harry Potter, I don't need pity. They're dead now anyway, so it doesn't matter. It's too late." She said harshly, probably feeling Harry's discomfort through their bond. He heard George suck in sharply while his own thoughts whirled. Dead? What in the- He opened his mouth to inquire when she shook her head. "Not now. Just - not right now."

"Please take these. Pain potion, magic replenisher, Healer Malfoys potion and a strengthener. That should be it." The healer handed Hermione the potions one by one. "as long as you keep your arm still and in the sling for a couple of days, medically, I have no reason to keep you here. Considering the attack today, I dare say, you are not safe here anymore." She turned to Harry, "As her personal healer, It is my professional advice, that she is discharged today and moved to a safer location." She turned back to Hermione, "Whether you choose to stay or go, is completely up to you. This room is yours until you leave the premises."

"Thank you." Hermione said, "I agree that leaving would be the best move, but I think there is a lot to discuss. I'll let you know sometime today."

Healer Magnus nodded and left with Malfoy.