December 1998
It hurts — waking up. Pain radiates through her skull, but more than that, Hermione limbs ache, and she can't move them. She struggles desperately when she realises as much, but Hermione can't seem to budge. Just rubs her skin raw where ropes are keeping her bound.
Coming back to herself, she realises she can't even scream. That there's fabric stuffed into her mouth that's already soaked through and making saliva run down her chin, and she is helpless.
Completely unable to move, unable to yell for help, she can only twist her head frantically in the hopes of seeing whoever's done this to her — even if part of Hermione already knows.
She doesn't want to consider the possibility it may be true. That what she thought she saw — felt — before she'd been knocked out was Greyback, but there's a wrongness settled over her bones that makes her nearly certain it is.
A realisation that makes tears stream down her cheeks to mix with the saliva because the more she thinks about it, the more obvious it is that he's here and that he has been the whole time. Perhaps even since the battle — he's definitely been here since the start of term, but Hermione suspects he's been staying in the 'safety' of the forest since May.
The Aurors had never searched the woods, after all. The forest was deemed too dangerous; they'd all assumed no one would survive staying in there any extended length of time. At least not anyone human, and that was their fatal error — forgetting that the worst of them isn't human at all.
She can't see him from where Greyback has her tied up, but Hermione can feel him. That familiar, heavy, itchy feeling that's followed her around the grounds all year. Like he's just been waiting for the right moment.
The thought makes her breath start to come in quick, uneven gasps. Hermione hates the idea she's falling apart so easily, that she's letting her panic and fear overwhelm her, but that doesn't do anything to stop it from happening.
Her body's instinctual reaction overwhelming the rational side of her brain, she starts flashing back to every moment she's sworn she was being followed — hunted. Hundreds of them, moments of bone-deep wrongness, that time she'd been chased through this forest.
Time and time again, she's assumed it was nothing. That she was overreacting after the war or that she was responding to Lavender's presence, even though she knew the other girl would never hurt her.
It was stupid. Careless. She'd been reckless even after being chased through the woods felt strangely familiar. She's ignored the obvious all term to wallow over Ron's unwanted attention and to focus on Lavender even after she knew what happened to the girl.
She's still crying. Can't seem to stop her panicked huffs as Hermione puts pieces together that she should have months ago. The darkness not helping how helpless she feels — it's been long enough she can make out the trees around her, but it's still too dark to see much beyond that.
Tied up as she is, she couldn't use her wand even if she had it. Instead, she's forced just to peer around her and hope she'll see him before he reappears — even if Hermione doesn't know what help that would be.
She's still wriggling. Trying desperately to break free of her binds, the skin on her wrist burns as she does it, but Hermione almost doesn't feel the pain. The sensation distant somehow as she tries to figure out what she should do. Nothing comes to her — just the reality of her situation. How stupid she'd been to traipse into the woods she already knew was dangerous without telling anyone.
It's as she's still trying to escape — tensing her arms against the bindings, trying to ignore the fact they won't budge — that it happens. That she hears twigs crack again, and she snaps her head towards the sound.
Watches as it — he — slowly appears through the darkness. He makes Hermione's heart stop. Her blood turns icy in her veins while adrenaline simultaneously burns through her — it's a confusing combination that draws more tears to her eyes.
Makes her sob despite how much she wishes she wasn't. Doesn't want to show him how helpless Hermione knows he is. Doesn't want to give him the satisfaction because she still remembers the promises he'd made.
The ones about how he'd hear her scream. Hear her cry. Hear her beg, and so much worse than that.
She's screaming around the gag; she doesn't know why he's used when he could have just silenced her, but she supposes he probably likes hearing her muffled cries.
She can't stop herself from making them, though. Can't control her breathing or the way tears still escape her eyes. Her vision starts to blur from the force of them, the salt stinging on her cheeks. The gag makes it difficult to breathe, and for a blissful moment, she thinks she may fall back into unconsciousness.
Thinks that whatever can happen to her in the darkness isn't as bad as what can happen while she's awake because she knows he's enough of a monster to want her consciousness for whatever she's going to do to her.
That he'll want her to react for him to have his fun. She almost reaches for the darkness, wants to let herself sink beneath it because it somehow feels safer than staying awake despite the vulnerability being passed out brings.
But she doesn't get the chance.
A mostly open palm smacks her across her face hard enough to stop her tears and snap her head to the side. The hit makes her head ring, disorients her as she tries to blink away the ringing sensation while she distantly thinks there's blood streaming down one the side of his face. Like he'd slapped her with his nails pointed towards her skin. Let them catch as he made contact.
It stuns her into silence. Stops her from escaping into darkness and leaves her to take in the unsettling quiet of the forest. Not a single sound comes from it — like the woods are dead. There's only Hermione's own heavy breathing to break the quiet and not a single other sound. A reminder of quite how alone she is.
She doesn't know why she looks up at him. Thinks perhaps it's instinct more than anything. She twists her head up as is met with his mocking grin — his teeth too sharp despite the fact it's not the full moon; he looks inhuman in a way Remus never did. Something about him just unnatural.
As soon as Greyback realises he has her attention, he starts pacing. A madman's repetitive back and forth, Hermione follows him out of fear of what will happen if she looks away.
Muttering, he finally spins towards her, and Hermione realises he has her wand. That he's holding it as if he's going to use it against her — the thought he has it at all turns Hermione's stomach, but the idea he'd use it on her is somehow even worse.
For all he looked insane the moment before, he's menacing again now. Towering over Hermione from her place on the floor, he crouches in front of her.
Rests a hand on her knee before he speaks. Growls, it's gravely and makes Hermione shiver at the darkness in the words, "I told you I'd have you. I told you how I'd take while you beg me not to. Fuck you until you're bleeding and broken. Until your screams die in your throat and there's nothing left of you. And then, when I'd done that, I'd tear you apart further — devour you."
She has to nod around the cloth stuffed into her mouth. Can remember exactly what he'd whispered as she tried to free herself from his grip in Forest of Dean. The promises he'd made before Bellatrix 'stole' her from him.
He'd growled then. More animal than man, he's still certainly not human, but there's something more controlled about him now. Something Hermione can only assume comes from the months of waiting he has to have done. The way he's been waiting for exactly the right moment.
His words are carefully controlled as he continues, "Did you really think I'd just let them deny me. Let them take you without claiming my prize." He laughs, a sound that makes Hermine whimper around the rag, it's something heard before, but she doesn't think she'll ever forget it. Something animalistic and wrong it.
"They kept on stealing you from me. All of you little bitches — young, and fresh, and ripe. Stolen before I could take you — but I knew, I knew, if I waited, the time would come. I thought I almost had you—" he strokes a finger down Hermione's face in what should be an almost comforting gesture, but his nail pulls skin along with it.
Drags down her face leaving a stinging path that has biting down as she screams. Eyes falling closed — her body's been through enough; it shouldn't be as painful as it is, but unable to flinch away, she's forced just to accept it. The tears that pool in her eyes make it sting as they run over it.
"—I could almost taste your fear as you ran. Couldn't believe you'd be so stupid as to come out here. Not after the animals, I kept leaving for you all to find. To imagine me doing that to you. But then that little whore from the battle started encroaching on me — on my territory.
"Left those boys I've seen her tear apart, but even they didn't deter you — did they mudblood? You came running to your little friend — right into my arms. I almost had you — was going to devour you. Taste your exhaustion and fear. Rut you while I feasted."
He growls as he speaks. Seems completely lost in his disgusting fantasy as he leans towards her, and Hermione whimpers as he brings his face to nudge under her neck. The motion makes Hermione freeze — the closeness to such a vulnerable part of her turns her muscles to lead even as her heart pounds madly.
So loud it almost makes her head ring as she remembers what he did to Bill Weasley. Something that would make her shiver if she wasn't still completely motionless — her body almost disconnected from her mind, she somehow still feels something almost warm and wet run over the curve of her throat.
A disconcerting slimy feeling that twitches as it leaves a trail where it drags down and her neck. Greyback's tongue brushes over her throat as she tries not to descend back into weeping cries because she knows that's what he wants.
He's tasting her.
There's no teeth. No scrape of enamel that would almost be more bearable; instead, there's only the unsettling feeling of wet muscle tracing along her neck.
She wants to shove him away and try sprinting even if part of her knows she'll never escape. That he's simply too strong and too fast — too inhuman for her to ever break free of, but she doesn't have the chance. Is just forced to accept it as he chuckles at her cries.
Draws away and leave the wetness to cool on her neck in the December air. The damp skin chills more than the rest of her as a reminder he'd just touched her.
He plays with her wand again as he laughs at how much she's crying. Twirls it between his fingers — taunts her — as he speaks, "I knew I was right to wait. I knew from the forest you'd be worth it — that you'd be delicious — so don't worry, I intend to take my time with you."
Then almost faster than Hermione can comprehend, he moves. Shoves her away from the log she was resting against — the one she suddenly realises was what Lavender died on. The thought tears another cry from her as he forces her onto her back. The position somehow makes her even more vulnerable than she was before, but she still tries to escape — tries to wriggle away on the icy ground.
The binds mean she can't use her arms, and her legs are tied together, so the best she can do is a sort of shuffling, but for a second, she thinks it's working — even if the more rational side of her knows it never would.
Then, before she can really make any progress, he shoves her down again. Forces her flat against the ground as he hovers over her, and a terrible part of Hermione's mind flashes back to every other time she's been in this position. Vulnerable on her back with a predator looming over her.
Ron — the night Ernie died. Keeping her trapped underneath him while he rutted between her thighs. The pain of him intruding on her body. The way she'd ached for days afterwards in places more intimate than just how her muscles had hurt after running through the woods chased by what she now knew was Greyback.
It was hardly the only time Ron had put her in this position, though. Something about the shadow from the trees reminds Hermione eerily of that very first night she let him take her to bed. How she hadn't really wanted to do it — hadn't really accepted that everything between her and Lavender was done despite what promises she may have made.
While both experiences still make her hair stand on end, they're not the ones she's really thinking of, though. Something about the way Greyback's dragging a wand — her own wand — across her skin reminds Hermione more of Bellatrix than anything else.
Perhaps the way he's still muttering about all the way's he'd like to fuck her remind her of his background commentary while she'd convulsed under the other woman's wand.
She can feel bile rising in her throat at even the thought of that day, but Hermione tries to force it down, knowing she'd choke on it with the gag still in her mouth. It makes her throat sting, but she doesn't care — too distracted by the memory of pain searing every one of her nerves.
She's so caught in flashbacks of Bellatrix carving into her skin, she doesn't see it coming. Doesn't see him grip the wand properly, doesn't hear him cast the spell until there's the familiar white-hot pain of a slash across her collarbone that reminds Hermione even more of that night.
The pain makes her scream around the gag. Her teeth dig into the dirty fabric as she cries — the sound somehow louder than it should be given the way she's being muffled; it seems to echo around the trees.
She doesn't get the chance to reel in pain, though. That same warm wet tongue running along that cut — it makes it sting. Makes her scream again as he groans at the taste of her. Seems amused by the way her chest heaves with her sobs, the motion makes blood slide back towards her shoulders, and he chases it with her tongue.
Keeps licking and savouring the taste of her; Hermione knows it's likely little compared to what else he plans to do. What else he's described — how badly he wants to tear out chunks of her flesh. Eat muscle off the bone while he bites through tendon.
She doesn't want to dwell on the things he's said, but they still ring in her ears. Make her cry more desperately because she knows there's nothing she can do to stop it.
She is forced to face the fact that she — Hermione Granger — was stupid enough to come out into the woods alone. Even knowing it's where so many of her classmates have died, she never stopped to think about it. Just set off, sure nothing could happen to her. She was so confident the real danger would never hurt her.
Besides, she'd dismissed every warning siren in her.
She keeps trying to escape the binds. Uses what little movement she has of her arms to try and push him away from her, but he's too strong. Climbs over her and starts tearing at her clothes; she tries begging him to stop but lying back, she's almost choking on her own saliva. The words muffled where the fabric stops her from screaming, Greyback seems to enjoy the stifled screeches.
He keeps ripping her clothes. Tears at her shirt to reveal more of her chest, she uses her own wand against her to slice more cuts into her skin. Licks along them to relish the way it makes her scream — she almost wishes he would just bite her instead. Part of her sure it would be less painful than having her own wand turned on her, but they're distant thoughts.
Her brain tries desperately not to focus on the fact he's hard as he ruts his hips against her. As he drags his teeth over the incisions over her chest — not hard enough to bite her but enough to make them hurt more. The worst part is that they're not even deep enough for her to bleed out.
Sting just enough to keep her conscious. Force her to stay awake through whatever he's going to do to her; they're not enough to put Hermione out of her misery. Instead, they just weep slowly — warm blood turning sticky on her skin.
It's so cold out Hermione thinks she should be shivering with something other than terror, but her limbs burn. Heat rushes through her, that makes her want to fight; it gives her just enough strength to throw him off her once more, but he's back before she can do anything.
More aggressive this time. Throws her back on the ground, her head thumps against it again, sending vibrations through her body. By she barely notices as he tears her shirt clean off her; he drags his teeth down her body — finally bites at the curve of her breast. Does it again and again.
Sinks his teeth into her to hear her scream — he seems to savour the sound, the bites not even to pull the flesh from her, simply to cause her pain. They all sting, tiny individual sites that throb even after the initial sharp pain of them.
She's almost lost in the haze of it. Somehow aware of every aching part of her, each new wound he inflicts on her, the way something in her seems to pulse with wrongness every time he cuts Hermione with her own wand, but it's like she's distant from it somehow too.
Floating in a haze of pain and terror — she feels almost like her brain is clouding over. Hermione's heart is racing; she knows that much. Can feel it hammering in her chest like a panicked rabbit's, but it doesn't do anything to distract from how Greyback is still hovering over her — how she can see he's getting bored with this particular form of torment and is looking to move forward.
Her cries increase again at the thought of it. The struggle she hasn't given up seems to double, but nothing works. His claws dig into her skin as he holds her down, and Hermione almost feels herself slipping away. Like she's going to that other place her mind sometimes went with Ron.
The one that's so distant from everything that's happening to her, but she still finds herself focusing on strange little details. Like how Greyback shirt is ripped and Hermione thinks the strip missing is what's being used to keep her quiet. How his beard scratches her already sensitive skin, but also how frost has begun to cover the ground.
A dusting that looks almost like snow, it's disrupted by their struggle but around them, but she can still see where the ground is tinted white. Finds herself thinking about that, about Christmas which she was planning to spend at the castle for lack of a better option, but now it seems unlikely she'll get to do even that.
It's a disheartening thought and almost makes her go still. Seems to destroy any of the fight left in her body, part of her hates that she seems to almost be giving in, but she can't overcome the urge to give up. To sink even deeper into that strange place where her body feels distant, and her mind feels safe because at least there, she won't know what's happening.
Where she can think of snow, and how she really wants to spend Christmas, and who she really wants to spend it with, even considering everything else. Flashes of Lavender's blue eyes appear in Hermione's mind. The warmth of her smile and the softness of her skin, and for a second, she thinks she can almost feel the other girl.
The same way they always seem to be aware of each other's presence — it's not something either of them really understands, but it's like they have some kind of preternatural awareness of each other. One that's only strengthened through time and the promises they've made to each other.
She almost thinks she can feel the other girl approaching. Feel rage and fury that someone's touching what's hers, but Hermione knows it's not the case. That she remembers Lavender uttered promises that she'd save Hermione again after Ron.
They'd been reassuring words, designed to calm her, but it wasn't as if they were true. Lavender may have intervened with Ron once — seemed to somehow know Hermione needed help — but that didn't mean she could now. Didn't mean she'd want to after Hermione's month of avoiding her. Trying to find ways to fix her despite the other girl asking her not to.
So she dismisses the thought despite how sure she is. Tries not to linger on the vague hope the other girl is coming to save her, she's almost shoved the thought to the side when Greyback pops off her. Growls into the trees as if there's something Hermione can't see.
He starts pacing. Circling. A wolf defending its territory, he twitches as he marches around the tiny break in the trees and then, suddenly, freezes. Stares out into the woods, a low sound rumbles out of his chest, and Hermione can tell it's a warning even though she knows nearly nothing about wolves.
He doesn't stop. The sound just keeps getting louder as Hermione tries to shuffle away from him. Manages to sit up and move more effectively using her legs to push, though it's difficult to keep her balance with how she feels the need to keep her arms close to her chest. Like she's protecting herself.
She's almost propped herself up against the log when she sees it. A shadow slinking through the trees, Greyback's hackles almost seem to stand on end for all he's technically human, Hermione's somehow unsurprised when Lavender appears through the trees.
She looks human. A non-threat. Nothing close to what Hermione knows she can be, but Greyback still reacts like she's an enemy. Like he knows she's as dangerous as he is and even as confused as she is, Hermione supposes he must do.
That he must have known something else was in the woods, as he hasn't been killing the students. Instead, he's been almost sharing territory with her. Though, based on how she spat his name when telling Hermione what happened during the battle, she somehow doubts they've shared willingly.
Stuck, still resting against a log but with her limbs bound, Hermione can only watch as the pair of them circle each other. Lions readying themselves to fight, they pace back and forth opposite each other and for all Lavender may look human — at least more so than Greyback does with his overly pointed teeth and nails that are somehow claws even outside of the full moon — she clearly isn't as they pace.
"You," Greyback growls at her and Lavender smirks in reply.
"Me. So you do remember."
"Of course I remember the little bitch Dolohov stole from me. I know more than that too. I've seen you what you are."
"Then you should know I won't be letting you leave for touching, Hermione," it's almost mocking. As if Greyback has already sealed his fate.
"Please," the monster sneers in reply, but there's something about it that feels far more threatening than it should do. Like Hermione's still reacting to having him on her. "As if your little tricks will scare me. Maybe I'll kill you first — make your little friend here watch while I fuck your corpse before I feast on you myself."
Hermione wants to whimper at the thought of Lavender dying. At Greyback murdering her, but the other girl only smirks again in response. Laughs as if he's said something amusing; she can see Greyback stiffen at the sound. Thinks she would do the same if she didn't know that Lavender wouldn't hurt her.
Instead, she watches as Lavender looks almost cocky, her lips upturned as she replies, "No — I think you'll find I'll be the one to eat you. I think you'll find I've been waiting for you to get distracted."
Then, before Hermione can even process what's happening, Lavender is moving. Almost faster than she can see, the girl's face rips apart like it had with Ernie. Her teeth become those deadly, almost piranha-like things as the flesh tears open.
She lets out an inhuman sort of growl sound that Greyback responds to as they clash and Lavender's so changed from the girl she usually is he looks almost human compared to her.
Perhaps if it were the full moon, if he had the strength it gives him, there would be more of a fight, but even now — even when should be weaker having not fed since Ron — Lavender's stronger than he ever has been.
Shoves him backwards; Hermione watches him come stumbling towards her and panics for a moment as she fears he may try and use her as some sort of bargaining tool. Thinks he's reaching towards her for a second, but Lavender grabs him again before he can.
Forces him down onto the ground the way he had Hermione earlier and sinks her fingers into his chest like she had Ron. Cackles as he screeches, clearly unused to being the prey. She uses the to keep him beneath her, digs her fingers in further every time he tries to escape; Hermione almost relishes the sound of his cries.
Finds herself watching in enraptured as Greyback tries to fight Lavender off and fails the way Hermione had against him. Watches Lavender bend down, her face still that unnatural terrifying thing; Hermione thinks she can almost feel when Greyback realises the depth of his mistakes. How he'd underestimated her when she brings her face to his neck.
She doesn't even give him the chance to scream before she sinks her teeth into him. Blood sprays everywhere, covers what frost there is left on the ground. Tints everything red as Lavender goes feral. Starts tearing him apart as she begins to feast
Hermione knows she should stop her — should do something other than just watch as Lavender devours him, but she can't bring herself to do it. Finds she wants Lavender to keep going. Thinks it's what Greyback deserves; she's well aware of the evil he's committed, and part of her thinks Lavender gave him too quick a death.
That the other girl was so focused on making sure the monster that's hurt them both was gone that they didn't make sure to properly punish him before he went. Lavender may be desecrating his corpse, but Hermione almost thinks he deserves worse than that. Even if she doesn't know what that would be.
The longer she watches, the hazier the world becomes, though. Like the darkness around them is somehow encroaching further, Hermione almost starts to float. Reassured by Lavender's presence, it's like she can give in to the exhaustion tugging at her. The way her head hurts and how tempting it is to give in to that pain — she finds herself almost drifting away.
Stares at the now red ground and wonders how much of the blood there is hers. She's barely aware of her surroundings until Lavender whispers her name.
Knelt in front of Hermione, she's human again. Her lips and neck are coated in blood — the rest of her, too, to be honest — but Hermione still finds herself comforted by the familiar look in the other girl's eyes.
Starts to slump towards her rather than backwards, it should be an effort to change positions, but as with everything else to do with Lavender, it's easy. Like she's being pulled towards the other girl as if she has her own gravitation field.
Eyes closed, Hermione feels soft hands on her face. Feels them begin to stroke through her hair as the stinging pain of her cuts are closed. As her head is healed and stops ringing so she can open her eyes.
She moans slightly when her binds are undone. As gentle hands massage blood back through her veins. It almost burns as it reaches places that were lacking it and the noise she makes seems to echo around them. Leaves them strangely aware of the silence when it dies away.
Silence Hermione ignores as she looks up towards the other girl and whispers the first thing that comes to mind, "You came for me."
It's pathetically hopeful, but her heart still soars as she remembers what it felt like to see Lavender appear through the trees. How — despite everything — she felt safe. Knew that the other girl would help her.
"Of course, I did," it's almost a sign, and Hermione leans towards Lavender at the slightly exasperated sound of it.
Presses their foreheads together as they just breathe. She finds she doesn't mind the blood. Just wants to be in the other girl's embrace. Something inside of her that's been begging for its other half for weeks finally stops screaming, and Hermione just feels calm as the other girl surrounds her.
Finally, she whispers, "I missed you."
Something she's known for days, even if part of her wasn't quite ready to admit it. Didn't know how to process that she doesn't care about any of what Lavender's done to survive. What she will do in the future because of it. Hermione's realised she's okay with it all.
Something about tonight, and seeing where Lavender died that means she no longer feels the need to dig into what happened. She's content just to have the other girl back, wrapping her arms around her.
So just lets the Lavender hold her for a few more moments before the blonde whispers, "Me too," into her hair.
They're like that so long the blood beings to dry on their skin. Makes it almost painful to peel apart. There's something deeply ironic that separating physically hurts, considering how much it does to do so emotionally, and Hermione knows she can't put herself through any of it again.
They've spent years trying to deny this thing between them. Have tried to kill it and have failed every time. Have always fallen back into each other's arms, and now, after they've fought a war and lost so much, Hermione knows she can't do it again.
That there's nothing left for her to lose. There's no reason to deny themselves any longer. Neither of them will ever have normal lives, not with how Lavender needs to feed, not with how the rest of the Wizarding World treats Hermione, so she may as well embrace the truth.
Admit what she's only allowed herself to acknowledge on rare occasions.
She is in love with Lavender.
Almost can't bear to live without her. Is willing to overlook everything just for them to be together. The weeks they've spent apart hurt her very soul. Lavender may have changed from the girl she was before the war, but at heart, she's still the same. She still defends Hermione, cares for everyone, or at least those who deserve it.
And those who don't, Hermione finds she's more than willing to condemn to death. The thought of sacrificing Lavender instead of them is unthinkable, especially knowing she hasn't, and won't, harm anyone who doesn't deserve it. But the unfortunate reality of their situation is that there are plenty of people out there that no one would miss.
It's not as startling a realisation as it should be. Instead, something in her almost settles as Hermione realises she won't sacrifice the other girl. Not for anything.
It still doesn't help their current situation, though. Covered in blood and stuck in the forest, Hermione's nearly certain they could sneak back into the tower easily enough. Put it all behind them and just continue on with their lives, but for some reason, she doesn't want to do it. Wants to grasp hold of this excuse to truly leave, she turns towards Lavender and asks, "Would you leave here with me, Hogwarts?"
Her voice is scratchy and quiet from screaming, but the other girl hears it anyway. Doesn't even hesitate before she nods in agreement, "I only came because I wanted to be with you."
The words draw a stupid grin to Hermione's face and despite everything. Despite what Greyback attempted, what he still managed to do anyway, she finds she needs to wrap her arms around Lavender.
Crosses back towards the other girl and cups her face. Takes one second to check it's what she wants before she presses her lips to Lavenders. It's sticky. Overly so, and her lips are metallic in a way they've never been before. Still wet with Greyback's blood, Hermione draws away, less uncomfortable with the taste than she should be, but her brain is spinning with the speed of her thoughts.
Bodies still entwined, she asks, "Where's my wand?" struggling to see around the clearing considering how dark it is.
Lavender hands it to her looking confused, but Hermione just shoots her the most reassuring smile she can manage and conjures her patronus. Stares at it in confusion for a moment when her little otter has gone, and instead it's been replaced by a big cat of some sort — a mountain lion, she thinks.
It looks startling intelligent and predatory somehow too, which almost fits how, Hermione feels changed from the girl she was in Fifth Year. Like she's embracing who she's meant to be rather than who everyone thinks she is.
Lavender looks at the creature in confusion too. Glances at her own wand as if wondering what her own would be, but Hermione's summoned her for more than just self-reflection, looking at the creature and muttering, "Harry…please…the forbidden forest. It's me — Hermione."
She watches the creature bounce away for a second before she looks back to Lavender. Squeezes her hand one last time before she casts a cleansing charm over her. Copies the motion on herself as she tries to rid them of the worst of Greybacks blood.
Reassures herself they aren't dripping quite so heavily as she turns her attention to Greyback's corpse. It's as much of a mess as the others have been, but Hermione needs to be less obviously similar, so she takes a breath before she casts a Bombarda at the body.
Watches as it breaks apart into hundreds of pieces. There are still large chunks of him — an arm, a leg, various pieces of the torso — but it looks less like someone ripped him open the same way Ernie and Ron died.
They're splattered with blood as it happens, and she feels it coat their skin. Cool this time. Sticky. Almost viscous, it clings to them. Settles on their skin and clothes but in a pattern that looks far more coincidental than the full-body soaking she and Lavender had before.
Looks more accidental than deliberate, which is exactly what Hermione needs.
She knows the Aurors won't be long. That her message will have rattled Harry, and he'll have gathered everyone he can think of to comb the woods for her, so when she turns back to Lavender, she knows she's not going to have time to explain.
Instead, she takes in the other girl's baffled expression and only asks, "Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Then trust that I'm doing the right thing. Just go along with what I say, and we'll both be fine by the morning."
The last bit is a lie. Hermione doubts either of them will ever really be fine. Too much has happened to them both for that, but she knows she won't let either of them get locked up in Azkaban. Or, in Lavender's case, some Dark Arts professor's laboratory most likely.
Instead, she has every intention of them both being able to move on with their lives. At least as much as they can, given the fact Lavender will still need to eat.
As expected, it doesn't take long for Harry to find them. Trailed by half the Auror department, they blanched when found them. All looked unsettled by the body — the way it was in pieces — but as Hermione explained what happened through tears that were only somewhat forced, they all brought it.
How she was only trying to walk herself to sleep. How she's still haunted by Ron, and she just wanted some air, and she knew it wasn't smart, but she couldn't breathe in the castle, so she wandered the grounds.
Woke up in the forest with Greyback. Heard him confess to it all. The boys, the animals, how he's been hiding in there since the battle, and no one looked for him. Part of her wants to be mad by how easily they accept it — even Harry — they barely question her story.
The only real inquiry is how Lavender ended up there. To which the other girl offered a stilted, almost confused sounding explanation. Let tears well in her eyes that mirrored Hermione as she told them how worried she was when Hermione had disappeared. How she just knew something was wrong and how she found her because they always find each other. It's just something they always know.
Hermione nods along to her reasoning like it makes complete sense even though she knows it doesn't. Resists the urge to laugh with how easily they just accept it. How not one of them questions how a bombarda went that wrong.
It's exactly what she intended, but she can't help but be baffled and amused by how quickly they dismiss them. Like they'd never view either of them as dangerous, as if Hermione hadn't helped win the war and as if Lavender hadn't killed four people.
More likely, if Hermione considers how she sustained herself over the summer and assumes she found other people to feed on. It's something to consider going forward, but there are still plenty of Death Eaters on the loose. And Hermione's not stupid enough to think a trip to a muggle nightclub and acting like they've had just one drink too many wouldn't reveal a plethora of people who deserve it.
So she's more than willing to help tidy up the bodies if it means keeping Lavender safe — keeping them together. Answers the Aurors questions, something that doesn't take nearly as long as it should. None of them thought to question a story from the Golden Girl.
It's only midmorning by the time the rest of Aurors leave. Harry wraps her in his arms for a moment. It's comforting, but there's still that distance there Hermione thinks may be a permanent feature.
He's shocked when she tells him how she's planning to write to Kingsley about taking her notes early. How she has no desire to stay at Hogwarts, but when she tells him how wrong it feels with everyone gone and how she just doesn't think she can stay here any longer and he accepts it easily enough.
Gives her a sad smile as he promises to write to her, a promise she suspects he won't keep but appreciates anyway. And when he disappears, she's left to laugh about how easy it just was to get away with murder. The thought startles a laugh out of her before exhaustion tugs at her, and Hermione remembers she can't remember when she last slept. At least not well.
So despite it still being light out — the sun high in the sky — she slips up to her dorm. Finds Lavender sitting on the bed, still covered in blood like she can't quite believe everything that's happened. Hermione scarcely can either but feels strangely free knowing Greyback is dead.
Like the constant voice that's been warning her about him has been silenced. She'll never forget his words or how his claws dig into her skin, but it's easier to tell herself it won't happen when she's seen his body torn to pieces. Felt his blood on her skin.
Blood that's starting to itch it has been dried on there for so long, she can only assume the same must be true for Lavender, so she takes the other girl's hand and guides her towards the bathroom.
They strip in silence, barely talk while they shower. Exchange the odd request for soap or shampoo while they help each other wash Greyback's body of their own. It's intimate, but there's nothing sexual about it. Like they're embracing their relationship for everything it should be. Quiet moments together, conversations that can be spoken without a single word, rather than just the desperation passion they'd clung to when they were younger.
Stumbling out of the shower, Hermione's yawning as she gets into her pyjamas. Lets Lavender cast spells over her hair; too tired to think about dealing with it herself, they finally get to black out the windows and slip beneath the covers.
The sheets cool at first they warm quickly with the two of them entwined. Lavender's body is oddly warm the way it has been since she came back but she still feels right next to Hermione.
Their hands and legs threaded together; it's like something settles in her, and Hermione knows she's going to sleep soundly for the first time in months. Like having Greyback gone and Lavender back at her side has set everything right in the world.
So right, Hermioen doesn't care about any of it. The judgement they'll receive, the way it may derail whatever career she wants to have — not that Hermione really knows, the question makes her more uneasy than she wants to admit — or even that Lavender shouldn't be alive at all. She's just thankful that the other girl is.
That they've finally reached a point they can be together and that they're both willing to fight for it. That somehow despite the war, despite Lavender being this creature, and despite everything else that's happened to them, they're finally together.
The thought overwhelms her. Makes her press her lips against Lavender's again to taste the familiar strawberries and sweetness of the other girl as they both just bask in each other for a moment.
After everything else they've been through it shouldn't be this simple as yet somehow it is. As if they've always been waiting for the moment to finally accept the inevitable. Accept what always should have been — the two of them together against the world.