Chapter 18 – Wolf in Your Darkest Room
A/N: 2021! A new year, a new us, and a new chapter! T/W: minor PTSD and a brief torture "flashback" containing demeaning language. Due to an unexpected visit to the ER this past weekend, I wasn't able to review (my usual final check for grammatical errors and continuity/language issues) the chapter as thoroughly as I would have liked. Please let me know if you see any glaring issues and I'll fix them 😊
Song recs for you: Crazy – Nothing But Thieves (this is such a phenomenal cover of the original song by Gnarls Barkley) and Hope For Now – City and Colour
Hermione quickly lifted a hand to smother the loud laugh that threatened to burst out. She had let Malfoy think she could communicate with animals for a touch longer than she probably should have. She wasn't sure if the creatures could sense her underlying animal forms or because of Cerridwen as they tended to be a little more domesticated in their behavior towards her . Something she had definitely taken advantage of.
"So, you can't actually understand them?" he grumbled.
"Not a bit." She answered with a self-satisfying smirk, "They probably just sense my animal forms and are more relaxed."
Giving a final shrug, she resumed her task of taking inventory of their remaining pantry stock. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again.
"I must say I am impressed," he continued, "That's not very Gryffindor of you. I dare say you've got some Slytherin tendencies up your sleeve. Sounds like I'm rubbing off on you." He finished with a wink.
"And what do you call that little display of gallantry?" she countered, pointing her quill in the direction of the greenhouse, "Looks like you've got a little lion in you yet."
He sputtered and dropped his face into mock disgust.
"That," he responded curtly, "Was just being polite. Nothing Gryffindor about it. I'd rather trap myself in a closet with several boggarts."
"Is that so?" she challenged, setting down her quill and started slinking towards him, "You'd rather face your worst fear than be associated with Gryffindor? Lions aren't so bad. King of the Pride. You would know all about pride wouldn't you?"
He was watching her movements warily with eyes narrowed in mistrust.
"That I couldn't say. It depends on how you utilize it." He asserted, watching as she glided by the side of his chair, "And Gryffindors' pride is most offensive."
"If you say so, Mr. Malfoy." She teased lightly, circling behind him, "But what about their glorious manes? Usually, a darker mane is an indication of a strong male, but white-haired lions are considered rare and even divine by some cultures."
Stopping directly behind him, Hermione lightly placed both hands on the top of his chair and leaned forward. Her curls draping down his shoulder as she whispered.
"Don't you want to be considered divine?" she breathed slowly into his ear.
Oh, this is just too easy, she mused internally as he froze in place. Taking advantage of his shock, she swiftly reached across and tousled his neatly styled hair before bolting away from the chair.
"ARGH!" he yelled out in surprise, "Oh, you are in trouble now Granger!"
Hermione shrieked in delight as she raced out the door, grabbing the edges of her dress so she wouldn't trip. As she ran outside, she glanced behind her to see if he had followed.
"Bloody witch!" she heard him call from the interior, "I'll get you as soon as I get these damned boots on. Why do boots have so many laces?!"
A shiver of excitement ran through her as she disappeared behind the greenhouse. She heard his shoes slap in the mud nearby and she chanced a peek around the corner. He was standing halfway between the creek and the garden, apparently attempting to decide if she had fled into the forest or stayed nearby. She smiled at his disheveled hair and flushed face.
If she was honest with herself, Draco Malfoy was rather fit. He was tall and lean with a slight athletic build, not as muscular or bulky as Viktor or Ron were. He moved gracefully, almost like a lion, she added with a smirk. The flush gave him a human quality, something she appreciate immensely. Otherwise, he reminded her of the beautiful and ethereal elves described in the Lord of the Rings series. With his jaw-length hair and high cheekbones, he look every inch she imagined elven royalty to be.
She attempted to draw back behind the greenhouse, but accidentally knocked into some gardening tools which resulted in a small crash. She cursed her clumsiness. She quickly checked behind her then moved once again to peer around the corner. He had disappeared from the clearing, so she took a deep breath and crept forward. She had made it halfway between the garden and the cottage when a pair of arms closed around her, pulling her against them.
"Gotcha." They whispered into her ear, an amused tone in their voice.
Sheer horror immediately washed over her.
NO. They had found her found again.
She began thrashing around violently and released a piercing shriek while the person holding her gave a surprised grunt.
"DRACO! Get out of here before they find you!" she roared, her voice nearly cracking from the effort.
The arms immediately released her and taking no chances, she bolted towards the woods. She'd be damned if she didn't make a last-ditch effort to escape a second round of torture. As she flew across the clearing, a small part of her hoped they would follow her instead and give Malfoy a chance to get away. She doubted Voldemort would let him survive if he were captured as well. Tears stung at the corner of her eyes as the air burned in her lungs.
"Wait! Wait, Hermione! It's me, Draco! Stop running!" she heard call out from behind her.
She skidded to a stop and turned to the panicked voice.
He was running towards her, concern plainly written in his eyes. He stopped an arm's length away, panting heavily. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage, stuck between the need to fight and the immense relief that the danger hadn't been real. As he struggled to catch his breath, she stood there as the adrenaline began to wane and was replaced with an immense emptiness.
It wasn't real. At least not this time. There was no guarantee that it wouldn't happen again. They would always be a threat until Voldemort was destroyed. She was acting like there wasn't a war going on by playing silly games with Draco Malfoy, of all people!
"What in Salazar's name happened back there?" he questioned, his gaze intense, "Did I hurt you?"
The question caught Hermione by surprise. He thought he had hurt her and the guilt tugged at her. This was all her fault and she felt her bottom lip begin to tremble.
"I'm fine." She croaked out, "I just thought the Snatchers had found us."
He jerked, obviously not expecting that answer. He made to move towards her and she quickly drew away. He stopped and looked at her, his face contorted into a mix of anger and shame. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shivering slightly.
"You thought I was a Snatcher?" He asked, hurt laced in his words.
"Yes, they grabbed me in a similar manner before I was brought to the Manor and my mind just immediately assumed we had been found." She snapped.
His face softened at her response but he wisely did not attempt to come close to her again.
"I didn't realize…" he began.
"It's fine. I need to be alone." She stated gruffly and left before he could say something that would send her into a full breakdown.
She scurried to the cottage, hoping to muffle the cries that were threatening to engulf her. If she could just make it to the upstairs room, she could cast a quick Muffliato and scream until exhaustion took her. She didn't bother to check if he had followed. He didn't know the trauma she had been through and she didn't need him.
He watched her rush towards the cottage and wrench the door open before slamming it shut. He didn't dare move a muscle until she was out of sight. He knew better now. As soon as she had disappeared, he sank to his knees. Guilt consumed him.
She thought he had been a Snatcher and what had she done? She had called out to him, begging him to escape. Not a single ounce of concern for her own well-being, only that he got a head start.
He had nearly missed it over the sound of her screams and the intense struggling that he hadn't know she was capable of. His mind had struggled to process the mental whiplash the moment it had switched from innocent fun to something much more sinister. He had panicked upon hearing her screams, thinking somehow he had harmed her.
See? Another reason why you'd be a horrible bond mate. You can't even touch her without her thinking you are attempting to attack her, an inner voice taunted. Look at all the things she has done for you and she recoils from you in fear regardless.
Draco clenched either side of his head, willing the voice to shut up. She had been through so much and he only made it worse. Staring down, he frowned upon noticing the dirt smeared on his trousers. He raked a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. There wasn't many places to escape in the cottage and he figured taking a long, hot bath would give her free reign of the cottage without his presence.
Steam filled the small bathroom as he peeled off his clothes and threw them haphazardly thrown to the corner. Sinking into the hot water, his hand gripped the edges of the tub as he leaned backed against the curved porcelain. It was silent except for the occasional drip of water from the faucet, too quiet. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling above him. She must have cast the silencing charm or else he would have heard some sort of sound by now. He resolved to check on her following his soak, despite their small bond indicating she was physically fine. Emotionally, however, he imagined she was a complete wreck.
He closed his eyes, remembering the shrill panic in her voice and the shadows of fear in her eyes. Their conversation playing over and over in his head. His mind fixated on her warning.
Get out of here before they find you!
The water quietly rippled as he sat up and begin tracing patterns on the water's surface. He frowned at the sight of his hands. They were responsible for so many things, such dark deeds and inaction. The cabinet from Borgin & Burkes, the cursed necklace on Katie Bell, Dumbledore's death, watching Hermione and other witches, wizards, and Muggles be tortured along with countless other unforgiveable acts. He wondered how he could ever be truly forgiven for such heinous crimes. When they had first arrived, he had selfishly plotted to use Hermione as leverage for lesser punishment. Now, he was nearly sick with the thought of ever considering the possibility of treating her so callously. Angry with himself, he sunk below the surface and into the silence of the water.
Opening his eyes, the ceiling wavered and small rainbows shimmered from the overhead light. His pale hair floated around the edges of his vision and small bubbles lifted from his lips. Even as a child, he had loved floating just below the water's surface. Something his mother had absolutely loathed, for many times she had thought him drowned. In the water, the world was muffled, soft, and momentarily peaceful. In this place, he could think freely without fear of judgement.
She arched her back against cold, hard marble as indescribable pain coursed through her veins. A shrill cackling surrounded her and flooded her ears. How she wished the sound would stop! Gasping, a new pain bloomed in her arm. Small, jagged pains that flared like fire and threatened to consume her.
"Where did you get it?", the high voice sneered into her ear.
She opened her mouth to speak but found no words would come forward. She licked her cracked lips and tried to speak again, only to have the air forced from her lungs as a kick connected with her stomach.
"Filthy Mudblood." The voice hissed, "I won't let you escape this time."
Coughing violently from the pain, she felt her body lift and an icy hand snake across her throat. She felt a hot, wet tongue dart along the shell of her ear and the hand squeezed tighter and tighter. Her limbs refused to move and hung limply as her assailant invaded her.
"He'll never want you, disgusting creature. I smell how your body aches for him, whore. Did you really think he cared for you?" the voice taunted maliciously.
A whimper dropped from her lips as the hands continued pressing harder and harder against her airway.
Feeling his lungs constrict in their need for air, he broke the surface and took a breath. Pushing his hair back and reveling in the feel of the warm water droplets sliding down his skin, he looked once more at the ceiling. A small thump emitted from it and he could have sworn he felt the quietest tremor at the base of his spine. He stilled, waiting for another sound or for the unsettling feeling to grow. When neither came, he scowled at his paranoia. Noticing the water was beginning to cool, he pulled the stopper and stepped out of the tub.
With a towel wrapped around his low on his hips, he padded over to the sink and wiped the steam from the mirror. He gazed at his reflection, slightly taken aback by the changes in his appearance. His hair hung slick, brushing against his jawline. He had always kept his hair short to avoid slowly transforming into a replica of his father. However, now that the traces of severe stress had left his face, he saw a glimmer of his mother shine through. The dark circles had faded, the tightness around his eyes had softened, and he no longer look malnourished. He couldn't remember the last time he had looked this normal. Probably the start of Fourth Year, he thought with a sniff. After the Quidditch World Cup was when his father had announced that he would begin shadowing "business" meetings and other similar situations which eventually led up to his initiation into the Death Eaters' Inner Circle and subsequent Dark Mark branding. Neither of which were a part of his life anymore and he knew, deep down, that she was responsible for that. If he was being truly honest, she was also probably the reason why he no longer looked like a shade of himself. As if with the removal of the Dark Mark, she gave back the piece of life it had tried to steal away.
He sighed heavily and in that moment, he finally acknowledged his feelings for her existed beyond the realm of their bond and that Hermione Granger, known as the vessel of the ancient goddess Cerridwen, was all he wanted until his he took his final breath.
Tears fell like rivers from her eyes, the salt burning tracks in her cheeks. She tried, over and over, to force her magic out. Anything to escape from the arms that held her too tightly. The hand dropped from her throat and she gasped, her lungs aching. Before she could be grateful, those cruel fingers threaded through her hair and jerked her head back painfully.
A starry sky soared above her, blurred between pain and tears. She felt cool fingers release her hair and slide against the curve of her neck while the other arm pulled her closer still, a hard body pressed up against her back.
"Is this what you want? To have him pressed against you?" the voice spoke low, neither masculine nor feminine, "That just won't do. Crucio."
Again, she could not find her voice. It was drowning in her agony and pain as the torturous spell raced through her entire being. Her mind screamed over and over, begging her to just open her mouth so it would all end. Her teeth nearly cracked as she ground them together while her body bucked involuntarily against her captor. As nebulas and planetary rings flashed hazily across her vision, the spell ended and she was dumped once more onto the unforgiving stone floor.
"Disgusting." The voice scoffed, the sound morphing into something familiar, "Just as weak and pathetic as I thought."
Heavy footsteps walked to where she continued writhing on the ground, the curse's aftereffects wracking her muscles. She felt their presence crouch before her and gently brush away her sweat soaked curls. She recoiled at the touch.
"It's all an act, a by-product of the bond. How could someone like me ever sully themselves with something so beneath them?" the voice breathed out, "Look at me Granger."
At the sound of her name, she twisted her head towards to the one face she had hoped not to find.
Draco.
As her eyes met his, it was only then that she found her voice and shattered into pieces.
Exhausted from what was supposed to a relaxing soak, Draco stumbled to the kitchen to fix a cup of chamomile tea before heading up to check on Hermione. After spending the better part of an hour coming to terms with his true feelings along with the emotional turmoil of earlier, he felt like he could sleep for several lifetimes. As the tea steeped, he felt that familiar shiver flow down his spine. Glancing up at the ceiling once more, he held his breath and listened for any signs of movement from Granger. The faintest thump sounded and he narrowed his eyes. It felt like the strings of their bond were being pulled taunt, like the strings of a bow. His breath caught at the tightness. Moving slowly, he removed the teabag from the cup and blew gently on the steam. Another thump landed from above, more insistent this time and Draco nearly gasped at the coil of tension wrapping around his spine. He knew immediately that he had put off checking on her for too long. He had hoped to give her some space to recover mentally, but the bond was urging him to move faster.
Lowering the cup, the coil burst open and a piercing scream echoed from above. The cup slipped from his grip and shattered on the ground and he flew up the stairs towards her. Bursting through the door, he was met with absolute chaos and destruction. The room was in tatters, remnants of magic and dust swirling through the air. The thick, wooden headboard was cracked and down feathers were scattered everywhere. She was thrashing violently, struggling against some unseen force while shrill cries tore from her throat.
He quickly scanned for any signs of intruder, his wand held forward. Seeing none, he rushed to her side and gripped either side of her shoulders.
"Hermione, wake up!" he demanded, "I need you to wake up now."
Her shallow, erratic breathing continued as her eyes roved wildly under her eyelids. Her arms flailed under his hold while tears streamed down her face. He noticed sparks illuminating her hair in the dark and he panicked slightly, worried another Cerridwen episode was oncoming. He shook her harder, hoping to pull her from whatever nightmare had taken hold.
"WAKE UP!" he screamed, quickly considering whether to smack her awake or even dowse her with water if she didn't snap out of it.
Thankfully, it worked and her eyes popped open as a scream died on her lips. She looked around wildly and attempted to scramble from his hands. He held fast.
"Draco?" she questioned timidly, barely audible and shaky.
He released a sigh, thankful she was seemingly lucid. He let go, somewhat reluctantly, and reached up to pull the curls plastered to her face from the tears. He quickly lit the lamp on her beside and searched her for any injuries she might have sustained in her struggling. She sat limply with a blank stare as he gently lifted her arms for inspection. A bruise was beginning to bloom on her arm and she winced as he prodded at her wrists. Looking up at the wrecked headboard, he assumed she had struck the solid wood rather hard in her fight.
"I'm going to heal your wrist alright?" he explained, "This might sting a bit."
She simply nodded.
"Episkey," he cast, a small popping noise indicating her wrist had indeed been fractured.
She hissed through her teeth and quickly withdraw her arm from his, cradling it against her chest.
"Is anything else hurt?" he probed.
She sat for a moment, her brow furrowing as she appeared to make a mental catalogue of herself.
"I don't think so." She answered quietly.
He nodded, relieved.
"What happened?" she breathed out as her eyes widened, becoming aware of the chaos surrounding her and his sudden presence in her room.
"It looks like you were having a nightmare and your magic seems to have lashed out in response to whatever you were seeing." He guessed, surprised at her confusion.
"How did you know I was having a nightmare?" she responded, a slight accusatory tone to her voice, "I cast a Muffliato. You shouldn't have been able to hear anything."
"The bond." He growled back, "It indicated you were in danger. Would have preferred I let you destroy the entire cottage because you were having a bad dream?"
She dropped her head and lifted her hands to her face, releasing a strangled sob. Draco's irritation vanished instantly.
"Hey," he asked tenderly, "Are you alright? It must have been a pretty awful dream to have your magic manifest like that."
She sniffed hard and released a shaky sob. She dropped her hands and slowly lifted her head, peeking at him from underneath a curtain of curls. Draco had the distinct feeling she was looking for something, some indication, but he was not sure what it was she sought. As she searched his face unabashedly, he observed hers in return. Gone was the swotty, round faced Gryffindor he had teased mercilessly in their youth. In her place, sat a strong-willed and astounding witch. Her amber eyes were sharp and calculating, Draco could practically see the cogs twisting in her mind. However, he also noticed a heavy weight deep within. As if she held the entire burden of the wizarding world's fate in her eyes. Surprisingly, he found that thought simultaneously encouraging and disheartening. A young witch shouldn't be responsible for the survival of magic from the clutches of a madman, but if anyone were capable of such a monumental task, it would be her. Beneath those dark waves, she was raw, vulnerable, and a force to be reckoned with.
Draco thought back to his earlier realization and wondered, with her physically before him, if he felt differently. Fixing her with a searching look, he knew immediately that his feelings had not changed. If anything, seeing her only further strengthened his resolve to stay at her side. Starting tonight, he would make good on that promise.
"I need you to answer me Granger." He urged, cautiously placing his hand atop hers, "Are you alright?"
"I'm ok." She croaked out.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he ventured.
She gave a small shake and sniffed hard. Draco pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed over to her.
"Maybe later but right now, I just can't." she confessed, "Thank you for checking on me. I didn't mean to alarm you."
"Stop Granger." He started, as she attempted to hand him back the handkerchief, "You can't get rid of me that easy."
She blinked, a small frown drawing her lips down.
"If you think I am leaving you alone after all this," he emphasized, gesturing to the destruction surrounding them, "Then you are a fool."
She flushed slightly in the dull light of the bedside lantern and opened her mouth to argue.
"Don't even try Granger," he tutted, "I've made up my mind. Now scoot over."
She sputtered at his instruction but slowly slid to the side of the bed. Draco grinned internally. Carefully keeping his face neutral, he vanished the layer of down feathers that blanketed the bed and mended the torn comforter. As he did so, she kept strangely quiet and watched his movements warily.
"I promise to be a complete gentleman," he intoned sarcastically, "Now go to sleep."
He dropped his loafers on the floor and slipped beneath the covers before she could protest further. She sat stiffly for several minutes and Draco felt her eyes boring into him.
"I believe I said 'go to sleep'." he murmured, shifting onto his side.
Finally, she gave a small huff and shuffled under the covers. He waited until her breathing became deep and even, listening for any signs of another impending nightmare. He briefly considered the surprising state of affairs that he was sharing a bed with Granger, but noted with some apprehension, that the choice had felt utterly natural. He rolled over as softly as possible until he was face to face with her. Her brow was relaxed and her lips parted softly. Taking a deep breath, he reached out and tucked an errant curl behind her ear that had fallen forward. As he pulled back, he let the pad of his thumb drag delicately across the swell of her cheek. She sighed into the touch and he swore her lips curved into the smallest of smiles. Not wanting to disturb her further, he whispered a quick extinguishing charm on the lantern and was asleep in seconds.