A/N: See end notes for warnings to avoid spoilers.
If you haven't already, check out Twinned Quills: Bonus Chapter 21.5 from Percy's perspective!
December 1998 to January 1999—
The roar of the fireplace after Malfoy's departure still rang in Hermione's ears.
"Hermione, sit down. He's gone. You can write to him later." Strong hands were guiding her away from the fire towards the sofa. She pushed them away.
"You!" She rounded on Harry. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault!?"
"Yes! If you would have just listened to me—"
"STOP!" Harry bellowed. Hermione stilled. Even though she was somewhat used to his outbursts, she could not avoid the way her eyes widened.
"Sit down so I can heal your damn foot, and stop acting like a maniac."
She sat, and tears flowed uninhibited down her face. She felt sharp prodding in her heel and savagely relished in the pain she figured she deserved. It was followed by a lot of heat, and then cold.
"Accio Hermione's slippers," Harry mumbled, then louder said, "Kretcher, Malfoy's broken some mugs in the hall. If you wouldn't mind tending to those, then we'll be in the kitchen for Hermione's breakfast."
"Kretcher will clear up Master Malfoy's accidental breakage and his place setting."
"Thanks."
After several silent yet tear-filled minutes, Hermione found herself seated at the kitchen table across from Harry and nursing her favorite coffee, made specially by Kretcher. Her favorite breakfast had been arrayed as nothing short of a work of art on her plate. She bitterly wondered if the elf's extra attention was a result of his assumption that she and Malfoy were now engaged, and he was serving a future member of the House of Black. The archaic notion would have made her sick if she had the mental energy to spend on it. Just then, she did not.
"Okay, Hermione, I'm listening," Harry broke the silence at last. "I was just shocked before to walk in on that in your room. Really, you should have just locked the door."
"I thought it was locked," Hermione grumbled. "And you're one to talk."
"What does that mean?"
"Oh, I walked in on you and Ginny the other night. You didn't seem to notice. She was on top of you and… Godric, I think I'm going to vomit." She glanced up at Harry, who had turned white as a sheet.
"Right," he croaked. "Why don't you just start at the beginning. I won't interrupt."
So, Hermione explained about her day alone without her family, Malfoy's difficult day with his fractured family, and her impromptu invitation last night. Harry listened in silence.
"I'm a bit surprised Malfoy came," he said after she finished.
"Harry, I promise, I didn't invite Malfoy, I mean Draco, over with those intentions. I was lonely, and we both needed a little comfort, and, I don't know, one thing just led to another. To be honest, I was worried he'd assume that's what was going to happen, but when he was here, I really felt like I was taking the lead."
Harry fake gagged, and she scowled at him.
"If I had to see you naked and thrusting into Ginny, you can stomach talking about this with me."
Harry grimaced spectacularly and said, "Okay, that's fair." Then, he turned more serious. "What do you know about pure-blood marriages?"
She was completely caught off guard. "We are not getting married! Godric, first Kretcher, and now you?"
"No, it's not that. Listen, I was having a chat with Sirius in fifth year when we were all here for Christmas. When he was in a good mood still, you know, and we had some time together while the Weasleys were in and out of the hospital. We got to talking, and he brought up girls. I think he was trying to distract me, but anyway, he started sharing about when he was growing up."
"I assume this is leading to something?"
"Yeah, I'm getting there. The thing is, he said that pure-bloods didn't really date seriously because a lot of families still have arranged marriages. And they didn't sleep around as some part of the betrothal thing, I can't quite remember. Anyway, even Malfoy's mum was betrothed to Regulus for a while until she convinced her parents to match her with Lucius instead. I think that's why Kretcher…" he paused leaving the rest unsaid. "Well, anyway, I'm worried you're in a bit over your head with Malfoy. I had thought he might not take things with you too seriously. But now, I'm wondering if he's taking them, well, too seriously."
Hermione's stomach plummeted. Was this what prompted Malfoy's reaction today? Did he think them spending the night together meant a really serious commitment? He had asked her last night how far she was wanting to go. She had thought he meant physically, but now, she was less sure. Based on the way he left, it sounded like he did not even want to talk to her, but if she could just explain things to him, she was sure everything would be all right.
The floo roared, and Hermione's face lit up until she saw red hair. It was Ginny, and her expression was irate.
"Harry James Potter," she began, and the floo again roared to admit George. "Am I to understand that you've been covering for my idiot brother shagging at least two women behind our backs?"
"Oh shit," George whistled behind her.
Harry's face turned white again.
Hours later, after Hermione spent hours of Boxing Day explaining everything to Ginny (who spent a lot of time shooting ominous glares at Harry) and George, she had promises from all around that things would be all right. Malfoy would cool down, they would work through things, and she would write to him that night and see.
But things were clearly not all right. Malfoy did not respond to any of her messages over the next week. Her quill started twitching oddly with each additional message she left, as if it were overloaded. She wondered if it had delivered any of her messages through to its twin. On New Year's Eve, she spent the night feeling horribly like a fifth wheel with Harry, Ginny, George, and Angelina. At midnight, she kissed Crookshanks, then retreated to her room to send another message.
' Happy New Year! Can we please connect and start fresh?'
Of course, there was no reply. Hermione's heart ached, and she wondered if she should just write out everything she could by way of explanation. A little voice inside her head protested at that. How could she possibly send such a detailed and personal message by quill instead of delivering it in person? No, she had to try to talk to him.
When term was ready to start, Hermione was back on the Hogwarts Express searching for Malfoy, who was nowhere to be found. Did he decide not to return because of her? Had she done that much damage to him? She tried to force a smile onto her face and talk with Ginny, Neville, and Luna, but all the while she tasted bile in the back of her throat.
After the train arrived and the carriages brought them back to the castle, Hermione trudged up to the Head common room and met Padma along the way.
"Did you have a good holiday, Hermione?"
"Er, it was alright. How was yours?"
"It was great! Listen, we should have some girl time soon. I've got a lot to fill you in on." Perhaps it was just a reflection of Hermione's mood, but Padma seemed nervous.
"Yeah, that'd be great."
They entered through the stained-glass door, and Hermione froze at the sight of platinum blond hair. Malfoy was seated at the kitchen table with a cup of tea looking utterly relaxed. Their eyes met, and his instantly darkened, but this time, they were overshadowed with fury instead of deepening with passion. The contrast with her recent memory made her choke.
"Patil. Granger." Malfoy inclined a curt nod in their direction, then got up and left up his staircase with a forcedly casual stride.
"Hmm…" Padma hummed when he was gone. "I wonder what's got him all hot and bothered."
Hermione let out a shaky laugh and retreated up her own staircase. Malfoy did not come down for dinner.
When classes began again, partner work had ended. Individual prowess was the heavy focus in preparation for N.E.W.T.s. Hermione no longer had a reason to sit next to Malfoy in classes, and she found that in each class they shared, he had seated himself in a position—already next to Blaise or at the far end of the room—where it would be impossible or awkward for her to join him. He neither looked at her nor engaged her. She was not exactly being ignored. No, it was much worse than that: he was dismissing her. He gave the impression that she was not worth his attention—good or bad.
Hermione tried, but she found no way of accepting this change in her heart.
"Just talk to her."
"No."
"You're clearly miserable. From the look of her, she is too. One conversation is all I'm suggesting."
"Fuck off, Blaise."
"Touchy. You can pout all you want to—not my problem. Just think about it."
Malfoy sighed and buried his face in his hands. "Fine."
One week into their second term, Hermione received a shock when she came downstairs from her dormitory to find Malfoy sitting at the table and reading. For the entire week, she kept rushing back to the Head common room searching for him, hoping to catch him even for a minute, but he was never be around during the times when they would have been alone together last term. Of course it was intentional. But now, there he was, when she was not even looking for him. She froze at the bottom of her staircase. His hair has fallen perfectly into his face, and his features were softened. He was drinking in the pages of his book in a way not unlike how he had looked at her, before. He was relaxed in jeans and a jumper, and Hermione's heart ached for him. She missed his companionship and their conversations that could cover absolutely anything. She missed his touch, both the intimate and innocent ones. She even missed his teasing and the way he smirked at her. With a lot of willpower, her feet carried her to him.
"Hi," Hermione said with surprising calm considering that she was a bundle of nerves inside.
Malfoy's glance flickered to her for a mere second before returning to his book, but something in his eyes hardened.
"Can we talk?"
"I'm reading."
"I know but—"
"Hermione?" a new voice interrupted. It was Ernie, who had called out to her from across the room. His timing, as usual, was infuriating. "Listen, can I have a quick word?"
"Er, it's not really a great time but… Oh, all right." She moved across the room to Ernie and was surprised to find that he was not beckoning her to follow him anywhere more private.
"I just wanted to let you know," he said when she was beside him, "that I did what you said. I care about you, I do, but the truth is, I did find another amazing witch. I'd like to start seeing her seriously. I know we made a promise to pick up where we left off when you were ready, and I know we, uh, enjoyed each other's company if you catch my drift, but—"
"Ernie," Hermione was mortified. "Whoever the witch is, she's lucky to have you. I'm really happy for you, I mean it. It's for the best, for both of us."
"Great!" he said, but his voice was a little forced. He almost looked unhappy that she was not torn up by his revelation. "Glad we're on the same page. I didn't want to hurt you, Hermione. Well, I'll catch you up later then."
Ernie headed out through the stained-glass door with an alarmingly cheery smile and a wave. Hermione turned back to Malfoy, ready to beg for his attention, but he was already staring at her. She could not understand the look in his eyes, but she knew it was not good. Was it fury, disgust, betrayal? Why? Surely he was not jealous about what Ernie carelessly announced to the entire room. She and Malfoy were not even together yet when they briefly dated, and she had told Malfoy about him by quill.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Malfoy cut her off through clenched teeth.
"Don't waste your breath."
He stormed past her and out of the common room leaving her more alone than she had ever felt in her entire life.
The days trickled on, and Hermione started to feel a weight pressing down on her with everything she did. Each day, she carried the weight on her chest, suffocating her. Each night, her nightmares returned in full force, and she found herself screaming in the drawing room for the duration of her stilted sleep. Once they started back up, she realized she had had a beautiful reprieve from them over the Christmas holiday. Even though many parts of the holiday were definitely not good memories, the warm feeling that Draco had filled her with must have kept the nightmares at bay. She had to take to silencing her room again, as most mornings she awoke screaming or sobbing, or both.
Ginny noticed the change in Hermione, but there was no need to grill her to find out why. She knew nothing positive has happened since the holiday, and she must have realized that Hermione needed distraction, not more discussion.
"How about we go flying this weekend?" Ginny asked her at Friday dinner.
"I think I'll just study."
"You've been studying a lot. Plus, you need to practice if you want to improve, you know that."
"It's okay, Gin, really. Another time."
When the following day, Saturday, arrived, Hermione felt overcome with misery. She idly wondered if she ought to go to Madame Pomfrey, whatever good that might do. Instead, she stayed in her room until her stomach growled painfully. She went down to the Great Hall for a quick lunch, and then returned to her room for the rest of the day and night, except for when she was back in the drawing room, of course.
"Tell the truth! TELL THE TRUTH!"
"I am! I am! I don't know! I didn't do anything!" someone was screaming. Hermione woke up with a jolt, sobbing uncontrollably, and was not at all surprised to realize it was coming from her. Her throat was raw, and her eyes stung. Casting around her room and pulling Crookshanks close, she reminded herself that everything was all right now. She was safe. A faint flicker of blue caught her eye in the direction of her desk.
"It can't be," she whispered aloud.
Jumping off her bed to investigate, she saw that one of the cubbies in her desk was indeed flashing blue. Hermione gasped. With shaking hands, she pulled out her Twinned Quill and her blue journal.
' You forgot to silence your room.'
Her heart sunk, if it were possible for it to sink any lower than it already had.
'Sorry to disturb you,' she wrote back. 'I've been trying to remember every night.'
'I meant for the others.'
'I'll be sure to apologize tomorrow.'
The pen stilled. That was it? After all this time, all this pain, that was all he had to say to her? She wanted to explode. She wanted to write everything she had been feeling to him. All of her confusion and all of her crushing doubt. But, she had no energy. Instead, she turned away, ready to go back to bed, but the quill started moving again.
' Every night?'
What kind of a question was that? Of course she was suffering every night, but it was not like Malfoy to be concerned about that—not anymore.
' Yes. Every night.'
'I thought they were improving.'
'You thought wrong. What do you care anyway?'
'Hm. I see.'
'Glad that makes one of us then.'
'Please. Don't play the martyr now.'
'All I know is that,' but she stopped mid-sentence. It was too much for her to take. She had been desperate for the opportunity to talk to Draco this whole time, but now when she had the opportunity, she had neither the physical nor mental strength to get herself to respond.
'I can't,' she finished. Then, she collapsed on her bed and sobbed, not caring that she had not recast the silencing charm, and knowing full well that she could not summon any of her magic just then if she tried.
On Sunday, she did not leave her room at all.
"Weasley, a word?"
Ginny glared daggers at Malfoy but stepped aside into the alcove with him. She had not seen Hermione all weekend, and she worried there was something seriously wrong for him to risk her Bat Bogey hex, but she did not want to show him anything but her ire.
"You need to go to Granger."
"Why? What did you do?"
He appraised her with a scathing look. "I didn't do anything. My aunt did."
"What?" Ginny shrieked. "How!?"
"Not today, obviously. Before."
"Oh. Her nightmares."
"Yes. Did she tell you they're daily now?"
"No, Malfoy, she didn't. Why would she tell you? You've been treating her like dirt."
For a moment, Malfoy looked like he might hex her, but she stood her ground. When he finally spoke, he just sounded tired. "The password is 'fanged frisbee.' Her staircase is the back right, with the Gryffindor red lighting."
With that, Malfoy walked off leaving Ginny more confused than ever.
"Hermione?"
She rolled over on her bed, but she could not see through her tangled mass of hair. Where was she? How could someone be in her dormitory?
A cool had was rubbing down her back.
"Come on, Hermione. Let's get you bathed and fed."
"Kretcher will run the taps and lay the table," came a gravelly voice. Was she back at Grimmauld Place?
"Thank you, Kretcher. I'm so grateful you came."
Hermione finally opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Ginny's face came into view as her strong arms rapped around Hermione to support her.
"That's it. Nice and easy."
In no time, Hermione was clean, dressed, and fed. Her mind finally started to work.
"I'm sorry you had to come up here. I know I should take better care of myself. I just get busy, you know, and I forget to, er, eat."
"Of course."
Her eyes fell on a neat row of purple potions on her nightstand. Ginny must have followed her gaze, because she said, "Dreamless Sleep potions from Ma—Madam Pomfrey. They're charmed to open twenty-four hours after the previous one empties, so you'll have to take them in order." And sure enough, Hermione saw tiny silver numbers labeling the bottles.
"Oh, I don't—" (Ginny leveled her with a spectacular glare.) "—right. Thanks."
"Do you feel up to going down to the common room? Those couches are ridiculously comfortable."
That was when it hit Hermione. She was amazed it took all this time for her to realize it.
"Ginny, how did you get in here?"
"I don't want to upset you, but Malfoy gave me the password."
"You asked Draco!?" Hermione was aghast.
"Well, no. He just sort of volunteered it. Told me you needed me. Have you two managed to talk at all?"
"Not really."
"Well, you should. You're clearly miserable, and Malfoy looks pretty exhausted. You've got to work this out."
"I'll try," Hermione promised, though she was uncertain whether or not her promise was sincere.
' Why do you hate me?'
'I don't hate you.'
'Why am I nothing to you now?'
'Get some rest.'
The Dreamless Sleep potions turned out to make a world of difference. Though Hermione still felt heartbroken, without the shadows of the Cruciatus curse echoing through her each night, she was able to at least get through her day. Seeing Malfoy in so many of her classes and in the Head common room was no help. But, as desperate as Hermione was to speak to him, she could not bring herself to say a word when she happened to catch him by himself.
As January stretched on, Hermione started to become complacent with her life. She spent all of her spare time studying in her dormitory or occasionally in the library. She had entirely stopped corresponding with Ron, only sent an occasional letter to Harry, and replied less frequently to Viktor than he probably would have liked. She met with Ginny outside of mealtimes whenever Ginny asked, but otherwise she focused on her N.E.W.T. preparations.
Before long, Hermione found that she was actually starting to miss her friends. She continued to improve in other ways, too. With a little more time, she no longer had to rely on the Dreamless Sleep potions to find her rest. Her visits to the drawing room lessened, and she was beginning to feel like herself again. Her studies continued rigorously as she prepared for her N.E.W.T.s, but she learned to balance her time with seeing her friends. She spent a good amount of time with Luna and Ginny, mostly in the library or the heated courtyard where they could hang out on common grounds. Except for Hermione's birthday and the one time with Ginny, the Heads still had never invited any outsiders into their common room, so the three girls met where they could.
Ginny would talk about quidditch and Harry, and Luna would talk about adventures with her father and odd articles in the Quibbler. Hermione would sometimes share snippets about Viktor, but mostly she was happy to be an active listening participant.
"This quill, Hermione. It's bloody amazing! I get to talk to Harry every single night! Oh," Ginny looked concerned, "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me."
"No, no, it's fine. I'm really glad he got one for you," Hermione said sincerely.
"Draco never writes to you anymore, but he wants to," Luna said.
"He what?"
"Yes, I think he misses you a lot.
"Luna," Ginny asked, "are you friends with Malfoy?"
"Oh no, I wouldn't say so."
Both girls stared at Luna perplexed, then Ginny squeezed Hermione's hand, which she took to mean "let it go."
"Come on, let's head to the library. Hermione still needs to check out a dozen more books."
"I don't need that many," Hermione protested, and both other girls laughed at her.
A few hours later, with library books laden high in her arms, Hermione approached the Heads' stained-glass door and said, "Fanged frisbee." The door swung open, and she entered with a quick shuffle, anxious to set down her heavy stack. Her toe caught on something, and she went sprawling forward in a tangle of books and hair and limbs.
"ARRGGHH!" Hermione and another voice cried out simultaneously. They hit the ground with two loud thuds.
"Blimey, Padma, are you all right?" said Ernie, and Hermione rolled over on her back to see him gingerly helping Padma to her feet, then holding her in his arms in a way that was far too intimate for friendship.
"Yes, but Hermione!" Padma squeaked, and Ernie rushed to her side to help her up. She had a few bumps but was otherwise unharmed. Though, she certainly did not feel as happy as Padma and Ernie looked with their matching beaming smiles. The way their eyes met, too…
"Ernie, when you said you found another brilliant witch before, did you mean Padma?" Hermione asked.
"Ohh, please say you aren't mad, Hermione," Padma begged. "I've been trying to tell you for weeks!"
"Mad? Of course not! Congratulations you two, that's really great." And Hermione was happy to realize she truly meant it.
That night, she wrote again to Viktor. And this time, she allowed herself to be warm and affectionate again, like usual.
A/N: Trigger warnings: Hermione suffers from some serious depression and PTSD here. To be clear, she has no self-harming intentions here. Unfortunately, her depression does lead to a lack of self-care that briefly puts her health at risk.
Also, everyone, don't worry. Draco is waiting in the wings! 3