June 26th, 2003
Dark purple circles had already begun shadowing Hermione's eyes and there was a weary trudge to her step that had been missing these past few weeks.
It'd been thirty-six hours.
Sleep stole her for a few broken hours, but not nearly enough, and she staved off her hunger pains by munching on anything that was easily reached. In her time since the incident on the battlefield, she had begun to feel again, began to really breathe again. Now, she felt back where it all began; compartmentalizing her feelings and shoving them into the recesses of her mind just to protect herself.
Thoughts of how she would cope if God-forbid Draco came back holding Ron's body— or vice versa— caused a thrashing panic to take over her and she found herself jamming the heels of her palm into her eyes just to drive out the visions.
Hermione's breath caught when a single pop sounded from behind her and her eyes clenched shut. Whatever she was about to see, she had a strong intuition that it wasn't what she wanted.
"Hermione?" Harry called and with it, her heart sank.
It should be Draco. He should be here, wrapping her in his arms and assuring her that his mom was safe and Ron was pissed but very much alive.
"Harry?"
"Merlin, Hermione, are you alright? You look—" Harry knelt down next to her, brushing the dull curls back from her face and trying to look her in the eye.
"Is there any news?" The words stuck to her throat and Hermione felt her shoulders slump in her desperation.
"He's alright. He hurt but Poppy is confident he's going to be just fine."
A sob that must have belonged to her echoed in her ears. "Who?"
Harry's brows tugged together as he studied her.
"Which who are you referring to?"
Harry cocked his head to the side and tilted her face up to his. When her gaze locked onto his squinted eyes, her breath hitched. "Ron. He's alright."
"A-and Draco?"
"Dra—" Realisation quickly settled over him and his eyes fluttered closed. He let out a tired sigh as he removed his glasses and rubbed at the crease between his brows.
"What about Draco?" She repeated with a trembling voice.
"He made it out. He's okay." Harry took a moment before speaking again, "Does Ron know?"
Hermione collapsed in on herself like a dying star, her forehead hit the floor as she allowed the emotion of the last thirty-six hours to finally overtake her. Harry stayed. His hand resting on her hunched back as she wet the wood floors with her tears.
The living room at the safe house was too quiet. Far too quiet. There was a flickering light bulb in the corner that was setting Hermione's teeth on edge and she was currently coping by shaking her foot back and forth nervously.
Harry's palm shot out and rested firmly on her knee. With a tight smile, he silently let her know that she was driving him mad with her fidgeting and with a bashful apology, she stood, resorting to pacing instead.
No one had offered her nothing in the way of information; to be fair, they had very little. But until she knew the extent of their injuries, her anxiety ruled her body. Everything felt too much: the quiet was too loud, the dim light was blinding… even her clothes felt offensive against her skin.
A quarter of an hour passed, and Madame Pomfrey finally emerged, a thin sheen of sweat gracing her brow. With a flick of her chin, she motioned that they were free to enter. Hermione's knees buckled and she sucked in a harsh breath as Harry's arm wound around her waist.
"They're going to be okay. But they might not look as pretty as they normally do," Harry teased, lightening the mood fractionally. "You go on, I'll talk to Poppy."
Hermione agreed quickly, leaving Harry's side and pushing open the door to the room at the end of the hall.
Ron was unconscious.
He had two deep indigo-colored bruises around his neck; evidence of fingers closing around his Adam's apple. A deep gash starting at his hairline and ending near the tip of his nose marred his ivory skin, it had since been properly cleaned and stitched, but there was no doubt he would be left with a scar that might threaten to put Bill's to shame. The rest of his face was relatively untouched, save a few purple shadows smattered across his cheeks.
Hermione kneeled on the floor next to his cot, taking his cool hand in hers and pressing her lips against the faint bruise forming.
"Ron... I'm so sorry." she breathed.
Her apology fell on deaf ears and she settled for resting her cheek on the back of his hand. Counting the slow rise and fall of his chest with an intense concentration. was the only way she would measure time from now on. Minutes, hours, years… they would cease to matter so long as those she loved were still breathing.
The door opened with a loud creak and Hermione jumped, wiping the tears from her cheeks. Harry stepped in, his features downturned and tight. "Well?"
"She's keeping him under for now. Malfoy's as HQ giving his report."
Something inside her slipped into place and she let out a relieved breath she'd been holding onto. If Malfoy reported, then Malfoy was alive. He was well enough to talk. That was something.
"Ron took a Confringo in the belly, threw him into a stone wall."
"My God…" Hermione's hand flew to cover her mouth as her eyes again found Ron's broken face.
"He was trying to get to Malfoy's mum. There was a scuffle and Ron… he killed Nott's son."
Hermione's vision darkened as she remembered the wiry little blond boy who used to lurk at the back of the library and always seemed to be sitting alone. "Theo?"
"Yeah," Harry said with a sad nod. "Nott Senior blasted Ron into a wall and then tried to choke him with his bare hands. Fucking animals— the lot of them. I swear, I've never seen men like this, Hermione." Harry advanced a few paces until he was standing next to Ron, staring down at his best friend with remorse filled emerald eyes. "Malfoy saved him."
It felt like a punch to her diaphragm, but one she welcomed gladly. "Malfoy's alright then?"
An indelicate little snort escaped Harry as his brows fell low over his emerald eyes. "What's going on, Hermione? You and Malfoy are together now?"
"We haven't exactly had a chance to label anything, Harry." Hermione stood in with an indignant stomp of her foot. "Regardless, I have been living with the man for over a month. It's reasonable that I've come to care if he lives or not!"
Harry closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "What about Ron? You guys—"
"We're nothing, Harry. We've never really been anything if I'm being honest. You all just wanted us to be something so bad that we felt like we had to try. Surprisingly enough, I don't need your guilt right now. I have enough of my own— enough that I'm bloody drowning in it." The words were hers but the candor surprised her, even when speaking with her best friend.
Harry levied a tired sigh and ran his tongue over his teeth as he let her words sink in. "He's heading back to the cottage after he's been debriefed."
Her gaze once again fell to the fiery-haired boy laying in the cot and she perched on the edge of the bed, cradling his hand to her lap. When had everything gotten so bloody complicated?
With a slight tremble to her shoulders, she placed a soft kiss on Ron's forehead before leaving without another word.
"Malfoy?" Hermione's voice rang out as soon as her feet landed on the grass outside the cottage. Before her stomach had properly settled, she was shoving through the front door, hair whipping frantically as she searched for him. "Malfoy!"
"Hello, Granger." Malfoy was sitting on the well-worn sofa with a slight hunch to his shoulders. He gave her that charming little half smile that she adored— but something was undeniably off about it, maybe the way it didn't reach his eyes.
She fell onto the couch next to him, her hands cradling his face as she inspected him for injuries. Other than a dark bruise on his right eye and some shadowing on the accompanying cheekbone, he looked relatively unscathed.
There were a number of things that Hermione felt called to say but each one died on her tongue. "Are you hurt?"
Something flashed behind his silver eyes, a dry chuckle escaping him. "I'll be alright. Weasley still alive?" His gaze fell to his hands lying in his lap as he pulled on his long fingers.
"I barely saw him, but I think he's gonna be okay. How's your mum?" Hermione watched as his face crumpled and his lips pulled into a tight frown. That look alone would have been enough to tell her everything.
He leaned forward and coughed into his hand. "She didn't make it."
"Make it?" Hermione's voice rose several octaves as she clung to the hope that perhaps she had just not made it out of captivity, but was still alive and somewhat well. That hope was immediately shattered.
"She's dead, Granger." His voice cut through her like a hot knife and her breath hitched in her throat.
Any insecurity still lingering in her body vanished and she curled into his side. "I'm so sorry, Draco." The words didn't feel close to enough but they were all she had.
Silence stretched on for quite a while and she could feel his rage building in the air them. It was subtle, but there something in his sharp breaths and flexed muscles that clued her in.
Suddenly, a bubble of laughter passed through Draco's lips. Then another. And another. Hermione sat up to inspect the man who was clearly having a fit of some sort and when she did he doubled over in laughter; happy tears striping down his cheeks as he clutched at his abdomen
"Are you quite alright?" Hermione asked with wide, skeptical eyes.
"It's funny, isn't it?" Draco managed as his bursts of laughter quieted and he was left with a rumbling chuckle. "I'm left with one parent who is certifiably evil. A complete monster by all accounts… and then, there's my mother. Who was far from a saint but until you, has been the kindest person I've ever met. And she's dead." Another laugh spilled out, but this one was a little sadder. "She's dead." He repeated it slowly and with a sense of finality, almost like he was trying to convince himself.
Hermione took a deep breath but didn't speak. Some moments needed silence more; this felt like one of them.
Draco rested back against the sofa and lifted his arm so that she might snuggle against him once more. They stayed in the silence for a long time, until eventually she heard his breath even into a slow, slumbering rhythm and a soft snore filled the air.
Her mind wandered as she counted his breaths. She was young once, not so long ago at all, and when she had been, she'd imagined all the places her life would take her. She'd imagined the adventures and the whirlwind romances. But through all the possible scenarios, she could never have imagined this. The pair of them were so incredibly broken; all jagged edges and harsh lines; they were further from puzzle pieces and closer to broken glass. Mending the shards felt like an impossible feat.
And of all the things she knew in complete certainty, she knew above all else that war was no place to fall in love.
At some point during the night, they moved to Hermione's bed. She fell asleep with her ear pressed to his chest so she could hear the constant drumming of his heart.
When the first rays of the morning began to seep through the blinds, her eyes blinked open and she stared at Draco up close for the first time in a few days. When his face wasn't screwed up in a sneer, he was undeniably beautiful. I mean, no one could have ever said that Draco Malfoy was unattractive but when given the opportunity to really appreciate his features— Hermione felt awfully insecure.
There was a light knock on her door and Harry's voice called her name quietly from the hall. Carefully disentangling herself from Draco, she wrapped her thin robe around her and cracked the door enough that she could peek out.
"Harry?"
His eyes floated right past her and landed on the shirtless Malfoy in her bed and she noticed the way his jaw slightly tightened. For the life of her, Hermione couldn't fathom why on earth Harry seemed to care as much as he did and it was caused her to glower unwittingly at her friend.
"They'll be waking Ron up shortly. They want to check his injuries and make sure he's cognizant; in case you wanted to be there." Harry said, shoving his hands deep in his trouser pockets..
Her sour expression brightened immediately. "Yes! When?"
"Soon. I'll wait for you downstairs and I can Apparate us to the safe house." His gaze once again flickered to the man in her bed and Hermione shifted her position in a poor attempt at blocking his view.
"I'll be right down."
She dressed quickly, throwing on a pair of denims that had probably seen one too many wears and whatever blouse was closest. As she pulled her socks on, Draco stirred behind her.
"Going somewhere?" he hummed, shifting on the bed and wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her back towards the center of the bed.
A playful giggle filled the room as she swatted at his arm, but she was ill-matched and was soon toppling back into his embrace.
"Yes, actually. Ron's waking soon and I want to be there. I shouldn't be gone long, but I can fix you something for breakfast if you'd like before I go."
He hoisted himself up on his elbow and looked down at her with a small smirk. "No need. Let me know how he is." His fingers curled around the back of her neck as he leaned down to pillow her bottom lip between his. Despite all the events of the past two days, Hermione felt a flutter in her chest as his lips moved against hers.
They pulled apart and stared into each other's eyes for a moment, just long enough to convey something silently to the other. In his was gaze was a burning intensity that nothing between them had changed, even if everything else outside this bed had.
Hermione hopped down the stairs and through the front door where Harry was waiting with his back to her. Thankfully, Harry said nothing as she reached for his arm. There were many, many things that ought to be discussed in due time but not now. This moment was reserved for Ron.
Once again in the living room of the small safe house, she was quickly greeted by some gaunt but hopeful looking Weasleys. Molly was the first to shoot forward, wrapping her in a bone-crushing hug before pulling back and studying Hermione with a critical eye.
"You're too thin," Molly said, the corner of her lip quirking up.
"You always say that." Hermione smiled back at her. "Is he awake?"
"Not yet. They were about to start just a few minutes ago, so shouldn't be long now. Would you like anything? Tea?"
No matter the circumstances, Molly was always fussing after them. "I'm alright. Thank you."
Hermione turned towards the lumpy sofas and mismatched armchairs behind her and her eyes caught on Harry and Ginny, both with severe expressions and although they seemed to be attempting to whisper, an argument was evident.
Quickly, she averted her gaze and fell into the armchair furthest from the conflict, trying in vain to find something to stare at that wasn't them.
Harry returned to her side, removing his glasses and jamming his fingers into his eyes.
"Everything alright?"
Harry's hands fell to his lap and his neck craned back so he was looking at the ceiling. "I swear, I can't do anything right."
"I could've told you that," Hermione said seriously and when his narrowed gaze shot to hers, she chuckled into her chest.
"Shagging Malfoy, huh?"
"Shhh!" she hissed, batting at him with an open palm. "Are you mad? Do you want Molly Weasley to flay me?"
Harry snorted, his eyes rolling as he replaced his glasses. "Well, to be honest, I'm not sure I'd blame her."
A bubble of rage floated up her throat and it took every ounce of energy and civility in her body not to jump to her feet and scold her friend in front of everyone.
Hermione's jaw was tightly clamped, but through gritted teeth, she managed, "Can we talk about this later?"
"I'm sorry." His hands flew up in a fake surrender. "I guess I just always thought you and Ron would somehow end up together. I thought it'd be the four of us forever." Harry's gaze drifted over to Ginny who was, as usual, glowering daggers in their direction.
Their relationship since the end of sixth year had been tumultuous at best and sometimes, Hermione wondered if maybe Harry ought to reevaluate his relationship. Maybe he ought to quit thinking about 'what was supposed to happen' and instead take a good long look at 'what was bloody happening'.
Hermoine sucked her tongue between her molars for a moment before speaking and let out a long breath as she confessed to Harry what she had so far only spoken to Draco. "Part of me thought that too, Harry— but I think if it was meant to happen, it would have happened by now."
"Hermione Granger? Are you sure that's you? Thought I'd drop dead before hearing you talk about destiny." Harry nudged her with his elbow and his boyish smile warmed her.
She barked a laugh before returning the playful shove. "I just—" Hermione paused, trying to make sense of her thoughts. "If it were supposed to happen, it would be... unstoppable. It wouldn't matter how much we fought it, it'd find a way. I mean, don't you feel like that with you and Gin? Everything tries to tear you apart and still, you guys have this need to be together."
Harry's gaze focused on his redheaded witch near the door, his lips twitching in an almost smile. "So you're saying it's like that with Malfoy?" Harry asked, turning his gaze back to Hermione.
"I don't know," Hermione confessed resolutely. "But I know I'm no longer the girl that Ron Weasley fell in love with. I don't know how to be her anymore and every time he looks at me and sees the shell of her— it kills me. Every time I'm not who I'm supposed to be, I feel like I'm letting him down."
"Hermione, you could never let Ron down," Harry reassured, completely missing the point.
"Ron, well, he's waiting for me to come back. I'm not coming back, Harry. That version of myself died a long time ago and sometimes it feels like I'm standing in front of you all screaming for you to understand, and you still tell me I'm going to bounce back. I won't. I— I don't think I want to."
Harry's eyes burned into Hermione's; she felt her lips trembling as she fought to keep her emotions in check but suddenly everything crashed over her and she wanted to fucking sob.
"You're right." Harry swallowed, staring at his hands clasped between his knees. "I think that after this is all said and done, we'll all realize we've been irreparably changed by this war. I think it'd be fucked up if we weren't," Harry laughed. "You know, sometimes I think Ron would have made a hell of a Hufflepuff. And don't you dare tell him I said that." The pair of them shared a small laugh as Harry leaned back in his chair and dragged his hands through his messy hair. "But in all honesty— no one loves like he does. His heart is oversized and he feels things deeper than the rest of us— loves on a scale I didn't know existed. He'll understand, Hermione."
She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder, smiling tightly.
A balding, gray-haired healer emerged a few moments later. "Weasley!" he called, his eyes still trained on the chart in his hands. When his eyes focused on the sheer number of Weasleys in the room, he nearly jumped and Hermione and Harry shared a private chuckle as they rose to their feet.
"Right." The man stared at them with a narrowed glare. "Mr. Weasley is awake, he is in a fair amount of pain, but he's been given some potions. He's alert for now. Would you like to see him?"
Molly Weasley was already halfway down the hall before he finished his sentence, and Hermione laughed gently at the sound of her stomps quite nearly shaking the walls. The rest of the Weasley's followed silently behind her, and Arthur clapped a hand on the healer's shoulder before disappearing after his wife.
After half an hour or so, Molly and the rest of the Weasley's exited.
"Harry?" Molly smiled with a cocked head. "He's asking for you."
Although she had not been requested, she stood with Harry and followed him down the hall. She needed to see him, needed to just make sure he was really, truly alright and then if he didn't want to talk about it, she would deal with it.
Hermione followed Harry into the room and when Ron's smile turned to a scowl, both of them froze mid-step.
"I don't want to see her, Harry," Ron said, as if Hermione were not very clearly in earshot.
She snorted and moved further into the room. "Ronald, please don't act like this. I've been worried sick and—"
"And what? What could you possib—"
"I'll just give you two a minute. I have a feeling you need it." Harry bared his teeth in an awkward grimace as Hermione sat in the chair nearest the bed.
"Harry, there's no need!" Ron called, wincing as he shifted in the bed.
"I insist." And with that, Harry was back through the door he had just entered.
The silence that stretched between the two of them was pregnant and palpable. Hermione found herself getting more and more frustrated the longer that Ron refused to look or speak to her.
Finally, she had had enough. "Ron, you can't—"
"Can't what? Be upset that you shagged Malfoy? I assure you, Hermione, I can."
His words made her flinch and her eyes clenched shut. "Ron, you have to understand… it's not like it was premeditated to hurt you. It was one time…"
"And it'll be the last time, I take it?" he clipped angrily, knowing full well what the answer would be. Hermione sucked in a harsh breath and he snorted at her response. "That's what I thought."
That feeling was back. The one that made her feel like she couldn't live up to her ghost. "I can't handle it if you hate me."
Ron's glare was positively icy as he snorted his response. "Please, don't victimize yourself, Hermione. It's bloody annoying."
At the term victim, Hermione's sorrow was replaced with rage and she felt her skin prickle with the heat of it. "Ronald, I'm a grown woman. I can choose to have relationships with whoever I choose."
Ron's glare narrowed and again he tried to shift in his cot, only to be reminded of his injuries. "You think I give a fuck that it's Malfoy?" he spat. "I'm insulted by you. By the way you constantly treat me as an afterthought when I have loved you with my entire heart since I was sixteen years old. I told you, Hermione. I told you how I felt and when you said you weren't ready? When you said you were too broken right now? I told you I'd wait. I would have waited forever." Ron's jaw quivered slightly and he tore his eyes from her. "It's nothing to do with Malfoy… and everything to do with you." Ron's words felt like an icicle thrust between her ribs and she nearly gasped at the onslaught of it.
Hot, shameful tears slid down her cheeks as she sucked in tiny, shattered breaths. "Ron, it's… it's not like that."
His face crumpled and she could tell that he was reliving the moment when he'd caught them in bed. "You couldn't even let me know that you'd moved on? You let me hold you through your nightmares, let me wait for you— and then jump into bed with Malfoy. It's bullshite, Hermione. I'm not saying I've been perfect throughout the years but I know I fucking deserve better than this." His voice cracked at the end as he fought off tears of his own and Hermione's heart fissured along with it.
Everything about the venom he was spitting at her ruined her piece by piece; mostly, because he was right.
Suddenly and without preamble, the door flew open and Madeye stepped in with a familiar scowl; Harry hot on his heels.
"Good. Granger, I'm glad you're here," Alastair barked. He either didn't notice— or didn't care— that Hermione was openly weeping.
"Weasley, you're discharged."
"But sir, he's not ready—" Hermione attempted to interject.
Moody lifted a hand to quiet her. "He's too high profile to stay here. You'll be portkeying to Granger's safe house."
"Wha—" Ron winced as he attempted to right himself in his bed. Hermione's hands reached for him but when he shot her a snarling glare, they dropped back to her lap. "Sir, I have to object."
"Does it look like I was asking permission, Weasley?" Moody shouted. "The other safe houses are packed and," Moody's good eye flickered over to Hermione briefly and he spoke carefully as he continued. "As things near the end, we need you healed. Poppy says you'll need a decent amount of physical therapy and there'll be no one here to tend you. Now, lucky for you, Potter will be accompanying you."
"Sir, I know this strategy inside and out. I've been working on these plans for months… you need me." The veins in Ron's throat were almost grotesque as he attempted to sit up and Hermione had, finally, had enough and gently pressed him back down towards the pillow.
"That's precisely what I'm saying, Weasley!" Moody's barked, taking a single step further into the room. "I need you healed. Can you handle it, Granger?"
Her focus flickered down to her scowling friend and she nodded. "Yes, sir."
Mad-Eye responded with an indelicate little grunt and stormed from the room. Leaving the three of them exchanging nervous, or in Ron's case— angry— glares.
"Well, this is going to be horribly awkward," Harry pressed his lips in a thin line and his eyes bulged behind his glasses.
Awkward didn't even cover it.
This was going to be hell.
A/N: I'm so embarassed about the delay on this story! Sweetly Broken is now complete and so, I will be working on finishing this rewrite up in the next few weeks.
Please forgive any mistakes as it is unbeta'd.
I'll be back with another update soon!
Xo - LK