She found herself running though the forest again. The trash she had been hiding in was not going to conceal her for long, so she took a moment of distraction from inside the café to get up and make a bee line for the trees. It was the last thing she wanted, in fact, the cafe had at one point felt like her salvation. Civilisation was more dense here, there were roads closer together, houses, buildings and people there to be conscious of. She made it to what seemed like a highway, after running for what felt like hours. She stopped by the edge of the road and leant against a tree, catching her breath. At the sound of an engine roaring, she hesitated, before waving down the passing truck. It was by pure luck that the truck stopped and let her in. The gentle rocking motion, the blanket that the driver had insisted she had to cover herself with, the beautiful silence threw her into a deep sleep.
She woke feeling softness underneath her. Her eyes refused to open, a feeling she had experienced before at the force of his hand. She reached up and felt her face, feeling the puffiness around her eyes and the tenderness at the back of her head. Her whole body ached, and she felt as though she may have a cracked rib. He must have done a number on her when she was unconscious.
"Are you feeling ok?" she heard a voice.
She could open her eyes enough to make out a number of figures in the room, Harry being the closest and people she recognised as Aurors.
"He tracked her using her laptop data. He activated the lost laptop application on his phone, and it led him right to her" said a voice.
"I didn't know there was such a thing" came Harry's voice.
"Clearly he had thought about this already, planned for her to leave" said the first voce.
"But with Malfoy?" came the whispered voice of Harry.
"Yes, with Malfoy, but its not what you think" she said, sitting up, holding her head.
"Hermione, I'm glad you're ok" Harry said. She watched him make his way around the living room towards her. She cringed at the thought that he now knew everything. That Ron would know and all the Weasleys would know.
"Where is he? Where's Charlie?" she asked.
"He uh… he turned the knife on himself… he's dead" Harry said.
"He had a knife?" she asked, feeling all over her body for any signs of being stabbed.
"He left a note. His intentions were to take himself out and take you with him, but it seems like Malfoy threw that all out the window" another Auror's voice said.
She was thrown into stunned silence. Part of her felt immediate immense grief at the death of Charlie Weasley, the strong dragon tamer of the Weasley family. Part of her was saddened that he was now gone, saddened for the part of him that she loved. That she had fallen in love with years ago. But there was a stronger part of her that was relieved. There was truly only one way this would have ended, and it was with one or both of them dead.
"Does… who will tell Molly?" she asked sadly.
"I'll make the call" Harry said sadly.
"They'll never believe me. I never let them see… no one knew how bad it was" she said.
"You should have said something. We could have helped you. We could have stopped him from hurting you. We just had no idea. You two seemed perfect" Harry said.
"That's just it though Harry. What he did to me. It was more than physical. The way he spoke to me, the things he did, he manipulated me into thinking, into believing that no one would believe me, that no one would understand. He took me away to Romania, he separated me from anyone who would or could know that there was anything wrong. He controlled what I said, how I acted, the things I did. We looked like the perfect couple because that's how he wanted it to look. Because, sometimes, when he tried, he was perfect, and so was I. So were we. Until we weren't. Until he wasn't. Then the times he would hurt me, he'd apologise and make all these promises" she said through her tears.
"Classic domestic abuse" he said softly.
"Exactly" she replied in a whisper looking around the room and noticing someone missing. "Where's Malfoy?" she asked.
"He's uh… He was defending you Hermione, he threw himself at Charlie from what we can tell. He saved your life" Harry said.
"Where is he, Harry?" she asked, pulling herself to her feet and looking around the living room.
"He's at St Mungos. They… He isn't expected to live" Harry said.
At this, Hermione's stomach lurched, and she vomited on the floor in the most undignified manner possible.
"I need to go there. I need to make sure. I need to help" she said.
"They're doing all they can. First I need a statement from you" the other Auror said.
"Here's my statement, I dated Charlie Weasley for 3 years while he abused me physically and mentally before I ran away and landed here. I was here on my own, assuming the other person staying here was a muggle who helped out around the place until 2 night ago when we came face to face. This morning, I went to breakfast and Charlie was there. He hit me and I passed out. I woke up to you lot here telling me Charlie is dead. There's your statement, now excuse me, I need to go see the man who just saved my life" she said, turning to go to fetch her wand.
Her mind was running faster than she could have thought possible. Charlie was dead, Malfoy saved her, Malfoy was at the hospital, potentially already dead. She had to go to him, had to thank him, had to tell him how she felt.
How did she feel? She had come to know Malfoy in a different light, but it had been just 2 days. She needed the opportunity to see if, whatever this was, could be more. She tapped her head with her wand, instantly changing her clothes, before she disapparated to St Mungos.
The waiting room was busy, and she rushed through the line to the receptionist, not caring who was already in the line.
"Draco Malfoy, is he here? Is he alive?" she asked.
"Just a minute" she was told, as the crowd descended upon her.
The receptionist witch looked from Hermione to the next person in line and back to Hermione.
"I'm a fucking war heroine. If not for me, you'd all be under the reign of Voldemort, now tell me, which floor is Draco Malfoy on?" she demanded, using her golden trio status for the first time to her advantage.
"Uh, Malfoy? He was... he was brought in an hour ago… level three, intensive care. There is no…. no update on his uh, on his status" she stammered.
Hermione didn't thank the incompetent witch, just quickly made her way to the third floor, slamming the doors open as she entered the intensive care ward.
There were beds and medi-witches everywhere, none of the patients had Malfoy's platinum blonde hair, none of them bore any signs of stab wounds or whatever it was the Charlie had done to him. She hadn't even thought to ask what was wrong with him.
"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, is he here?" she asked one of the passing by nurses. The witch just looked at her and shrugged before making her way to a nearby bed to tend to a dark-haired woman who was bandaged head to toe.
Hermione began to panic. Malfoy had no one, he told her so. She was aware that his parents were gone, that he had no family, his arranged marriage to Astoria Greengrass never happened and he was all alone, potentially dying, all because of her.
She bent down, putting her head between her knees so she could breathe, trying to cam herself. If he died because of her, she would never forgive herself. It would be the one thing she wouldn't be able to let go of. The one thing she could certainly blame herself for. The pasts atrocities, the past deaths, the people who died in the battle were all because of Voldemort. All because of the greater good. This was a senseless death. Meaningless. All for nothing.
She felt her breaths get harder and faster and her vision went fuzzy. The last thing she saw before everything went dark was a medi-witch heading towards her with a giant needle.
Hermione woke early, knowing that it was going to be a big day. She got up quietly and made her way to the kitchen to get a start on breakfast. She had learnt, in years gone by, how to cook food just like she had been given during her month and a half at the Inn and thankfully so.
A bushy brown haired 11-year-old girl came bounding down the stairs with Hogwarts: A History in her hands, declaring to the world; "Today is the day I go to Hogwarts".
Hermione smiled to herself, wondering how she had managed to create an almost clone of herself. This girl would have passed for her twin had it been 20 odd years earlier.
"Well, here's your breakfast, now eat up" she said, putting a plate of food in front of her.
"I wish dad could have been here" she said sadly.
"Me too sweety" Hermione said. She never knew how to comfort her daughter when she said things like that. It wasn't uncommon, she said it often, but Hermione couldn't ever find the words to express how much she felt the same.
The morning rushed by and Hermione and her daughter stepped onto platform 9 and ¾ with haste as the train stood marvellously blowing steam into the air.
"Its amazing" she said in awe.
"It certainly is. I remember the first time I saw it, it took my breath away. Still does" Hermione said, remembering herself at 11, having had a completely different life to the one that her daughter has led. This child knew all about the magical and the muggle worlds. She would have no need to try and prove to the world that she belonged. She certainly belonged, and everyone who knew her, knew that she did.
The clock that sat high on the wall read 10 minutes till departure and Hermione nervously toyed with the strap of her handbag, as she thought about how she would say goodbye. How she would say goodbye for not only herself, but for her daughter's father.
As she leant down and pulled the girl into a hug, she felt strong arms encapsulate her from the side.
"You made it?" her daughter cried out, flinging herself into the arms of the man who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"Of course I did, Pia, how could I miss your biggest adventure?" he asked.
"I thought you had work?" Hermione asked.
"I'm the boss, of course I can get away for a bit" he said, pulling both of them to him.
Hermione took in his warm embrace and let herself remember when she had almost lost him, before he had truly even been hers to lose. He had been in a coma for weeks, after suffering a major head injury at the hands of Charlie, when Hermione found out she was pregnant. She was so lost, so unsure about what to do. She contemplated a muggle abortion but couldn't go through with it. The idea of having and raising a baby on her own was terrifying. She had sat by his side daily, holding his hand, talking to him, trying to coax him out of whatever dream he was having, but at that point, it had been a lost cause. Even the medi-witches and wizards told her he would never recover. She was adamant though; he would remain there till they found a way to fix him. When she told him she was pregnant, it was at that moment when she felt his hand twitch, when he mumbled something in his sleep-like state, when he began to wake up. The first thing he said was that he had been in love with her for years and couldn't wait to have a family with her. It took her several days to come to terms with it, but after some lengthy conversations, some confessions, and some interesting admissions, she agreed to try and have a relationship with him and find a way to raise the baby together. It took no time for them to fall into an easy life and they were married before their daughter, Scorpia, was born. Their life had been a happy one. She lost touch with the Weasleys completely, after they accused her of causing Charlie's death. In the end, she couldn't blame them. They had lost so much, had suffered too harshly. She was completely exonerated, after Arthur requested an official inquiry into what had happened. Hermione was questioned under veritaserum after Scorpia's birth, and it was found that everything she had said was true. Several more facts had come out that had gotten out to the papers and devastated the wizarding world on behalf of Hermione, but after a while, she let it all go and let herself love life with Draco and their daughter.
Draco now managed a men's service, providing mentoring and education to men who perpetrated violence against women. He would often be called away at a moments notice, work on weekends, and at nights, which was why Scorpia often felt saddened by her father's absence. It was always a contentious issue, but Hermione understood why he did it.
As Pia entered the train, Hermione and Draco stood arm in arm, watching as their one and only little girl sped off on her life's adventure. Draco looked to Hermione and wiped a stray tear from her cheek before kissing her softly.
"I bet she'll be a Slytherin" he murmured into her ear.
"Like hell she will" she replied with a smile.
AN - The end :-)