~Chapter Thirty-Two~ Healing
Upstairs, Hermione removed the outer layers of her robes, dumping them on the floor of her bathroom, and retrieved a bottle of essence of dittany from the cabinet along with some cotton pads. Draco took the bottle immediately, and she allowed herself to be ushered over to sit down on the edge of the bed, watching as Draco made his way meticulously around her, cleaning and healing the various cuts and scrapes with gentle dabs and the occasional prod or twitch of his wand.
It was immensely soothing, although she wouldn't have admitted or guessed it. The care with which he moved eased some of the echoes in her mind from the torture curses, and the whole situation was more intimate than she could have imagined. His gaze was gentle and focused, a small frown drawing his brows together as he searched for her wounds, totally absorbed in his task, and seemingly unaware of her eyes following him.
He began at her ankles, slowly moving up and around her body, taking care of every last scratch and graze, no matter how small, his touch gentle as he took each of her hands in turn, cleaning and healing the grazes on her palms and knuckles, the scratches across the backs of her hands and along her arms. Even the tiny abrasions on the tips of her fingers were attended to.
The thought that she hadn't received this kind of care from anyone fluttered across her mind, and she flushed. There was nothing particularly different about what he was doing, but the fact that she had his whole attention and the level of care he was taking touched her. It was obvious that whichever woman one day secured his affections, she would not be left wanting. She felt a sting from the idea, like a jab in a wound she hadn't known was there, and Hermione pushed the thought away.
She closed her eyes in an attempt to control her thoughts better as he moved to her neck, allowing him to turn and move her head as he required, conscious of the cool touch of his fingers, the wet dab of the dittany on cotton wool, and the brush of magic. She hadn't been aware of the cuts she had sustained to her neck and cheeks, although the wounds to her temple and the back of her head did ache. They were the largest of her injuries, and he gently dabbed and wiped at them, removing any specks of dirt or gravel, and cleaning away the blood.
Hermione sighed.
"What?"
"What?" Hermione's eyes flew open and she felt as though she was flushing scarlet and was certain he'd notice. The wistful sigh had escaped her without her realising, and mortification was flooding her already.
"You made a noise. Did I hurt you?"
"NoIdidn't. I mean. No. No, I'm fine."
"Uh huh…" Draco frowned, confused, and Hermione kicked herself internally for breaking whatever charmed moment had hung between them. She heard the faint swish of his wand near her ear, and then felt the warm touch of his magic as her head wounds were healed. "Well, I think that's all your cuts."
Hermione fought with herself internally for a few seconds, then swallowed. "Thank you. I don't think I'd have found them all on my own."
Draco came around to stand in front of her and smiled faintly. "I hope it didn't sting too much."
"Not at all."
He nodded, then turned to one side, suddenly awkward with nothing to do. "Uh. Well, I guess if that's all, I should…um. Go."
"No, wait!" Hermione reached out, then snatched her hand back before he could turn around and see. He faced her again, grey eyes questioning. She flushed, and this time she knew he had spotted it. "I, uh…I'm pretty bruised around my back, I think. I hit some walls quite hard."
Draco's expression of curiosity and bemusement immediately filled with concern, the serious frown back once more. "Granger!" It was a soft mutter of admonition.
"I know, I know." Hermione stood, feeling more awkward now than she had maybe ever in her entire life. "Um. Do you mind healing them for me? I don't think I can reach them on my own. I…uh, I'll have to take my top off."
Draco paused, suddenly uncertain. "Are you sure?" He met her gaze seriously. "Maybe a professional healer–?"
"Only if you don't mind," Hermione gabbled quickly, feeling the blush deepen. "I mean. If you're not comfortable, then I don't mind, it's just I–"
"No. No of course. No, that's fine. I just…wanted to make sure you were comfortable. With it."
Hermione swallowed and nodded. "Uh. I'll turn around."
Draco nodded woodenly, his eyes filled with something she couldn't read, and then Hermione turned to face the bed, reaching to pull off her blouse.
She could hear a faint hissing intake of breath from Draco as she did so, and paused for a moment, holding the flimsy garment to her chest, mind flying in a thousand directions, at least a hundred of them focused on what bra she'd chosen to wear that morning once she had been able to change into fresh clothes. She bit her lip, forcing herself to take her courage with both hands and speak.
"Draco?"
"How many walls did you hit, Granger?" His voice was soft, almost husky like it had been in the morning, and somewhere between exasperated admonition and concern.
"Oh." Hermione stopped herself from sagging with relief. "Um. I'm not sure. One or two?"
Draco tutted. "One or two." The mutter was disapproving, but the care behind it warmed her. "Are you ready?"
Hermione nodded.
Draco eyed the witch in front of him. Given what she wore in their training sessions, she really wasn't that much more naked now than then, but the clothing she wore then was practical and didn't have the same connotations as seeing her now, standing in front of him, half undressed. He kept his mind focussed on the task in hand, however, knowing she was trusting him, and harbouring no intentions of betraying that.
He had seen her scars from Dolohov before, of course. But never very closely, and never with a chance to really examine them. They twisted and arced across her back, wrapping around her waist, a sinister pattern beneath the new marks now across her skin. The bruises had bloomed, large and in various shades of red to deep purple, and in a few places with a faint edge of blue. The blue-edged ones were risen welts where the impact had been hardest, and it was plain that she had struck walls hard enough to break bones.
"I'm going to heal the bruises first, then check your ribs. Is that OK?"
"Yeah."
"All right." He sucked in a slow breath, and then murmured the spell, tracing his wand lightly over the injuries, the pooling blood beneath her skin slowly fading as though he was removing tattoo. It took several swirling passes to heal all of the bruises, and from what he could tell there were at least three distinct layers. He knew that bruises in and of themselves were not indicative of severe injury, but even so, he marvelled at her ability to resist the fatigue and pain. He paused once her skin was clear again, but for the old scars, and eyed her back carefully for any spots he might have missed. "How's that feel?"
One of her hands slowly crept around her waist, slender fingers feeling gingerly and pressing, and then she twisted from side to side a little, arching her back.
"Like new."
He could hear the smile in her voice. "No pain from your ribs?"
"I don't think so?"
"Hm. I'll make sure." He stowed away his wand, and then paused, rubbing his palms together once, then cautiously reaching to touch the bare skin of her back. She moved a little in response. He flushed. "Sorry. I know my hands are cold."
"No, it's OK. It's quite nice really. Still a bit unexpected though." She laughed a little.
Draco nodded to himself, and gently slid his fingers across her skin, feeling for the bumps of her ribs beneath, gliding over the permanent smooth welts of the scars that would never fade. He moved slowly, watching and listening carefully for any reaction from her, an intake of breath or a twitch that might indicate she had deeper injuries, but there were none.
Satisfied, he lowered his hands.
"You can uh, put your shirt back on. Um. I'll find you something clean. Where should I look?"
"The dresser under the window has t-shirts in the big top drawer."
Draco turned, located the dresser and slid open the drawer. It was indeed filled with a collection of Muggle t-shirts, most of them soft and worn with wear. He pulled out the top one, a dove grey, and returned, handing it over to her, and turning his back.
Hermione slipped the shirt on, grateful to be able to move again without a litany of aches and pains chorusing their protest and turned around.
"You can look now. I'm decent." She gave a little laugh, more to dispel her own nerves than anything else.
Draco faced her.
"Thanks for fixing me up. I guess it was a bit silly of me to say no in the first place." She flushed.
"That's all right."
They both remained where they were, awkwardly looking at one another, then Hermione waved the blouse. "I guess I'd better take care of these." She crossed to the bathroom where she'd dropped the rest of her clothes, and with a few deft sweeps of her wand they were clean and mended. She stooped to gather them up. "So why were you looking for me? I meant to ask."
"What? Oh." Draco latched onto the question gratefully, suddenly feeling like a third arm now that he'd run out of practical things to do. "I wanted to see how you were doing. After this morning."
"This morning?" Hermione's brow furrowed and she paused, halfway through tossing the gathered robes into her wicker laundry hamper. "Oh." She sat down on the hamper lid. "Wow. That feels like an age ago."
Draco watched as her expression of shock changed to one of dread. "What is it? What's wrong?" He started forwards, wanting to reach for her but not sure if he should.
Hermione sighed, squashing her face in her hands for a moment, then rallying herself as she stood. "It's nothing – nothing serious to worry about anyway. I suppose you remember that Ron was over here this morning, full of accusations and insinuations?"
"Mmhm." Draco's expression was severe.
"Well Viktor turned up as well, and I managed to make them calm down once they started listening to me, that is."
Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione shot him a faint smirk of recognition.
"But obviously this," she gestured at herself and the world in general, "is going to make a huge splash in the papers and get them all wound up and worried again." She sighed. "What a day for damage control."
"Indeed."
She shot him glance. "How was it for you with your parents?"
Draco shrugged. "Just about what you'd expect. They calmed down fairly quickly, all things considered, although they're not pleased, as you may imagine. Then of course mother decided to raise the topic of marriages and grandchildren." Draco sighed.
"Oh god." Hermione hid her face in her hands, trying to conceal her amusement. "I'm so sorry."
Draco shot her a smirk. "Thanks."
Hermione smiled. "I haven't had lunch. I was planning to before I, you know." She flushed. "Have you eaten?"
"Not yet, actually. Although I did drink about a gallon of your tea waiting." Draco's stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly. "Sorry."
Hermione laughed. "Care to stay to eat?"
"With pleasure."
Neither of them felt particularly up to whipping up a feast, and Hermione decided to introduce Draco to the wonders of food delivery services. There were a few fairly decent places in her area, and after discussing the fact that a wizarding version would probably make an absolute killing by capitalising on even wizards' laziness when they could Apparate, made their orders with an Italian place, and had their food within half an hour.
In that time they were able to finish clearing up the last of the mess from Hermione's arrival, and move the dark grimoire to a safe location in her closet under several layers of protection for the time being alongside its white twin. Crookshanks seemed to have taken a shine to Draco and bothered him, bumping his head against his shins until he received some semi-begrudging head scratches.
The pasta that arrived was just as rich and carb heavy as Hermione in particular required. She had ordered a carbonara for that very reason, and Draco a frutti di mare, which she had ribbed him over. Hermione also introduced Draco to eating on the couch with lap tables, turning on the television which played an episode of Miss Marple in the background.
"I have to say. This is certainly a novel experience."
Hermione laughed.
They had both relaxed since the bedroom and were feeling comfortable with one another as they had the previous night during dinner.
"I can't say I'm surprised that a lazy TV meal hasn't been in your sphere of experience before, but I'm glad there are still things that are new to you."
"Oh, I have no doubt that there are plenty of things that are new to me out there. Particularly from the Muggle world." Draco smiled, twirling his spaghetti.
"Are you sure you don't want to try some of my carbonara?" Hermione attempted not to slurp up a long and creamy strand of fettuccine.
"I'm good. I've never been a fan of the creamier sauces. Can I convert you to tomato?"
"Hmm. You can try."
Draco lifted his plate, and Hermione reached over, gathering up a mouthful of the pasta on her fork and carrying it over before it dripped.
"Well?"
Hermione chewed. "Oh, that is too good." She reached, half-jokingly, for his plate again, and Draco swung it out of the way, fending her off.
"Hey! It's mine!"
"You said you wanted to convert me! Just one mussel! A prawn, even!"
"Yeah, but not give up my whole lunch in the process! Get back, woman!"
He elbowed her back, and Hermione subsided with a laugh, picking up the garlic bread and tearing off a piece.
They subsided into companionable silence, eating and watching the episode.
"Seems like we just can't escape murders, eh."
"Oh, I can change the channel if you want?"
"No, it's fine. This is kinder than what we deal with at least."
Hermione nodded. "True."
Draco had summoned a bottle of wine from his cellar to have with their lunch – a crisp pinot grigio – and they sipped their way through it as they ate, grateful for its tartness against the rich flavours of their meals.
"Mm." Draco set down his glass. "You remember my second owl?"
"Yes."
"It was the interview with Witch Weekly."
"Oh." Hermione turned wide eyes on him, correctly reading the premonition in his tone. "Bad?"
Draco sighed. "Pansy."
"Ah." Hermione stared at the TV for a few moments. Then she carefully forked up some pasta. "Seems like we got her curious at Monte Rosa."
Draco nodded, taking another sip of wine. "Yes. She was on the hunt and no mistake. And she'll be even more determined right now. Her father's murder will have her distracting herself with work."
"Ah." Hermione looked sober for a moment.
Draco shot her a sideways glance. "She'll pull through. She tends to talk to Blaise more than me these days. When she's ready, she'll go to him."
Hermione nodded.
"She'd dug up the tale of the blonde as well."
Hermione stared. "And?"
"Blaise had a hand in it. I don't know for certain, but I can guess. He said something about getting our version out there first when we were talking the other day. He must have gotten someone to drop a hint about seeing her with me to Pans. Of course, knowing I'd been out with Blaise, she'd go to him before the interview so she could try and trap me with whatever he said."
"Wow. Thank Morgana for Zabini. If that had come up without our knowing the whole ruse could have been sunk."
Draco nodded fervently. "Agreed. I'll have to send him a decent bottle of Ogden's as thanks some time."
"How about a Muggle whiskey? There are a lot of good distilleries in Scotland."
Draco nodded. "Blaise is actually quite partial to Muggle liquor. Good idea."
Hermione smiled. "Do you think Pansy believed you? I'm guessing she was prodding about our relationship."
"More than prodding. She straight out asked me if it was a publicity stunt."
Hermione sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Oof."
"Yeah." Draco sighed. "I'm not sure if she believes it, but she doesn't have any material that she can spin against us."
"Glad it was you who handled her rather than me."
Draco nodded. "She's a tough nut to crack. But I think we're OK."
Hermione shrugged and nodded. "That seems as good as you'd get with her."
"Oh yes. Pansy's too sharp to believe something off the bat. She wasn't like that in school, but…"
They both drank.
Hermione turned to Draco, raising her glass. "Well. Here's to dodging bullets, as Muggles would say."
Draco grinned, clinking his glass against her. "Happily so."
"Hermione?"
Their bowls were in the kitchen cleaning themselves, and they each had a last half glass to finish of the bottle.
"Mmm?" Hermione was lying back in the cushions, eyes shut. Despite all the furore of the day, she was feeling remarkably contented, and she knew it was largely due to the wine and the food. It was far more than she would have eaten on a normal workday, and wine of course wouldn't have been on the table, but for a single glass. They'd each had three already.
The episode of Miss Marple had finished, Draco having correctly guessed the murderer to his satisfaction, and Hermione had flicked it over to a channel with soft music playing, not in the mood for a raucous game show.
Draco eyed her. She looked so peaceful after how she had been after tumbling in through the fireplace, but the matter had been on his mind since the moment she had let it slip. "Will you be OK? After the Cruciatus, I mean."
Hermione sighed, then opened her eyes to meet Draco's concerned gaze. "You've experienced it, I know. So I won't lie to you."
Draco nodded, both of them glossing over the memory Hermione had seen from Draco's time in the Manor under Voldemort.
"It will take me a few days before my body begins to forget and stops repeating it."
"Yes."
"And I know there's nothing that I can take to make that happen faster."
"Mmhm. What about…?" Draco paused, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass, aware of the precipice he stood on.
"What about what?"
Draco raised his eyes to meet hers, apologetic.
What is it?
Hermione's voice spoke softly in his mind, and Draco allowed himself to show her the thought he had been too nervous to ask. Hermione saw a brief flash of a darkened marble room, a woman in black with masses of curling hair, and herself stark and pale against it all, on the floor. A wave of Draco's emotions surrounded her, anger and regret and fear, all mixed together in a complicated swirl that moved too quickly for her to unpick.
Ah.
Yeah. I'm sorry to bring it up.
It's OK. I understand.
Hermione smiled.
Draco's eyes softened.
Well?
Hermione paused, sighing in person as she sat up better, sipping her wine.
It did bring it back.
Will you be OK?
I think so? Maybe I'll have some nightmares, but…
She shrugged.
Yeah. Par for the course for people like us.
Unfortunately, yes.
They both subsided on the couch with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling, Hermione withdrawing from Draco's mind.
"It wasn't the same as her." Hermione said softly after a few moments. "For Bellatrix it was pleasure and fun. But also with a purpose. As much as she enjoyed seeing me suffer, she wanted to get the truth out of me. In that moment."
Draco snorted. "I'm not sure there's anyone alive who enjoys torturing as much as my aunt did."
"Apart from our killer."
"Mm. Perhaps."
"There was enjoyment. They were toying with me."
Draco shifted a little uncomfortably.
Hermione continued, more thoughtful than anything else. "The fact that I'm alive speaks to that. But they weren't torturing me for a purpose. They'd knocked me down. They had the book. The curses were for fun. And I'm certain they wanted the book. They left the moment they had it. If it was linked to the case they couldn't have had any reservations about killing me. Leaving behind a witness and a Ministry official no less? It doesn't add up."
"So you think this is separate to the killings?"
Hermione sighed, shifting restlessly. "I don't know. Maybe? It just seems too different to be a part of them. And it's not beyond the bounds of reality for the charade to have made us a target for others who still aren't keen on a more equal wizarding world."
"Fantastic." Draco took a gulp of his wine. "That gives us at least another two sources we have to look to."
"The real question is what did they want from the book?" Hermione sat up abruptly, almost spilling the last of her wine down her front. "I'll scour it. There could be more to the grimoire than meets the eye. Maybe a secret that can be unlocked. A magical message?"
Draco also sat up, a little less quickly. "You need to be careful, Granger." He waved a finger at her. "We know that you're on their radar – whoever they are. Whether this is linked to the case or not, you're in danger."
"Yes. I know."
"So be careful. They let you off this time. They might not a second."
Hermione nodded seriously.
A yowl came from the kitchen, and they both got up to investigate. Crookshanks was sitting on the floor watching a sleek Ministry eagle owl which was perched a little nervously on the back of a kitchen chair.
"It must be from Harry." Hermione rushed forward to take the letter the owl clasped in its beak, offering it some owl treats and a drink from a bowl by the window, and opening the letter to read Harry's untidy scrawl aloud.
Hermione,
I think it's probably best if you stay at home for the rest of today. The reporters are everywhere, of course. I've issued a statement saying that you're fine and that it was a scuffle involving following up a lead for the case – which is technically true – but indicating that it was incidental. Kingsley offered to come out and add emphasis to the story, but we're keeping him in reserve should any of them get extra nosey down the line. Rita wants more, of course, so best stay low for today.
If you want, I can floo you whatever notes you left behind on your desk, I'll call at three to find out what you need. It might also do for Malfoy to make a show of anger to the press – capitalise on the moment and whatnot for furthering the validity of your relationship. It should work well with his Witch Weekly interview. I've been told that it will be run this evening, so probably another good reason for you to have a night in.
Also – I'm pretty sure Ron and Viktor will find out soon if they haven't already. I know you've had more than enough to deal with today already, but if you can spare a thought for how to handle them, let me know what you come up with? I will also try and figure something out.
We've taken a few people from Knockturn Alley into custody for questioning about these men who attacked you, but I don't think it will turn up much. I have a suspicion most of them were moved away with the Imperius Curse. You might remember that I was looking into the appearances of the Lestranges earlier. I don't think it was them, but just remember that they are still at large. It would be unwise to totally discount them.
Rest up and stay safe.
Harry
Hermione sighed as she finished reading.
"What specifically?"
"Ron and Viktor."
"Ah yes, the troublesome duo."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but was smiling.
"I was thinking about them, much as I would prefer not to," Draco continued, smiling through the snark, "and I may have a solution for you."
"Oh? Do go on."
"Much as it pains me to say it – have them over for dinner."
Hermione frowned. "What?"
"It'll show them both that you still exist and are safe, and that they mean something to you."
Hermione stared. "Draco! That's actually sweet."
Draco made a face. "I forbid you from ever saying that again. Or telling anyone this was my idea."
Hermione beamed, and pulled him into a hug. She felt him stiffen in her arms, but before she could doubt herself, his arms came around her, holding her to him. She breathed in his smell guiltily, and convinced herself it was the wine that made her dizzy as she did so. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Draco's tone was gruff again.
She released him, and he returned to his original position, a little wooden. Hermione grinned, then paused, frowning.
"What is it?" Draco's tone held an eye roll.
Reading his insinuation correctly, Hermione stuck out her tongue. "I just remembered the grimoire. Surely my first priority should be doing as much research as possible on that."
Draco sighed. "As much as I would love to agree, I think that perhaps this takes precedence. The last thing any of us needs is Krum or Weasley going rogue. They know about the ruse, remember. I'm not saying that they'd spill the beans to the press, but keeping on good terms with them won't hurt. Even Potter would agree with that."
Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully, nodding. "True…"
Draco sighed. "Granger. Just stop thinking for a few minutes, OK? Trust me on this. Would I be pushing you towards them if I didn't genuinely think it would be important for you to do?"
Hermione glanced up at him. "I suppose not."
Draco sighed somewhat despairingly.
"OK, fine! We'll do it your way." Hermione tutted with mock frustration. "Let's go finish that wine."
Draco stood by the fire, dallying as he took a pinch of floo powder.
After the wine they had both had a few sips of a sobering potion to clear their heads for the rest of the afternoon, as Hermione had great plans for working on the dark grimoire, and Draco had another press meeting to handle. Harry had called and caught up on plans, delighted with Hermione's idea to invite Ron and Viktor over for dinner, and passed through a significant portion of the contents of Hermione's desk. He and Draco had quickly hashed out plans for meeting a select group of reporters at the Ministry so they could both make statements about the attack, agreeing that doing it in the evening after work would help limit the number of reporters and questions.
Afterwards, Hermione and Draco had settled down to examining the dark grimoire, each taking notes and discussing obscure points of the theory and their differing understandings and interpretations, starting with work that might help with Dark Mark removal. It was a diversion from Draco's research, although not necessarily a pleasant one, and just as before, it was pleasant to have a study partner whose mind worked similarly.
The afternoon had slipped by all too quickly, and six o'clock seemed to arrive within minutes rather than hours.
Draco paused, turning back to Hermione, a fine stream of glittering green powder falling from his fingers onto the carpet.
"Hermione."
"Draco?" Hermione gazed up at him, patient and curious.
"It doesn't feel safe for you to be here alone."
Hermione's expression cleared and she laughed. "Ron and Viktor will be along in about an hour. It's not that long."
"I meant after that."
"Oh."
Draco struggled for the words. "What I mean is. I would feel…more assured, of your safety, if I was here. Or you were at my apartment again. I don't mind which. I'm happy to sleep on the couch here. I just…don't want to risk it. Today's had enough unpleasant surprises." The last words came out as a mutter.
"Draco." Hermione was smiling despite herself.
"I mean it." Draco's expression was unbending, all uncertainly and awkwardness vanished. "Potter said my uncles might have been sighted. Maybe that's a coincidence, maybe it's just idiots letting their imaginations run away with them, but the attack was real. If they'd wanted to kill you–" he bit off the end of his sentence, nostrils flaring.
Hermione opened her mouth, then shut it again, gazing up at him in what Draco thought was surprise and something else he couldn't quite figure out. Then she nodded. "OK. I'll floo you when they're gone."
Draco nodded curtly, then turned to the fire again, flinging what remained of the powder into the flames which roared green. He glanced back over his shoulder one last time. "I'm glad you're OK, Hermione." Then vanished into the flames.
This was such a fun chapter to write. I love scenes of non-sexual intimacy, and particularly when they're still dancing around each other and their own feelings it's just too juicy an opportunity to miss! Realistically, this version of Draco has also had more experience than he should have with healing spells, so he's extremely competent.
I also liked giving them a small slice-of-life moment at the end of the chapter. Characters at rest are such a different vibe, and I feel like these kinds of "moments of nothing" are nice to read and include, particularly for balance, even if they don't necessarily progress the plot. Things are also going to be ramping up in the upcoming chapters, so a little pause also feels very appropriate.
Ironically, after speaking with my old supervisor and mentor a few days before I was going to start sending out my novel manuscript to publishers, I ended up deciding to change plans and look for an agent instead first! It feels like the right choice though, now that I've looked into it, and I'm very excited to come up with a plan of attack. For the moment I'm just focusing on my second novel, but I will continue with the monthly update schedule for as long as I can!
I'm very excited to be able to share a chapter every month now. It's felt so drawn out, and particularly with action coming up and the next arc in the story, it definitely feels appropriate thematically and pace-wise to be on the monthly schedule!
I hope you enjoyed it! :D
Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)
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