Very happy to give you this chapter today. I hope you will like it :)
Special thanks to my Alpha Angelina who worked with me day after day. Special thanks to my betas enchanted4life and Wise_Owl26.
Let me know what you think!
Axiomea
It was Thursday afternoon, the 4th of March, and while the eighth years had their Charm class, Ginny had a free period. She had taken the opportunity to take her notes to the infirmary and settled into a chair next to Hermione's bed and began her reading. She was tired. Sometimes she lost the urge to read or talk at all, she wondered what difference it really made, but she remembered why it was important.
In that silent hour, she had read her lecture notes and her latest reports as Head Girl. She told her about the Quidditch team and how the coach was having a hard time managing the whole team. So she still had to attend a few practices to help.
Ginny rested her parchments in her lap and looked up at Hermione. The infirmary was silent. Through the window panes the redhead could see the blue sky cloaked with heavy clouds. The temperature was getting milder and milder.
"You're going to miss the spring," Ginny murmured.
The brunette's eyes began to stir under her lids. Ginny frowned and leaned towards her friend. "Hermione?" she whispered.
First it was the movement of her eyes that quickened, then it was her fingers that began to twitch. Ginny held back an exclamation of surprise and jumped to her feet to observe her friend even more closely.
"Hermione? she cried. "Hermione, can you hear me? Your eyes are moving!"
The still sleeping Gryffindor continued to stir, as if she was having a bad dream but couldn't wake up. Ginny placed her hand on her forehead.
"Madam Pomfrey!" she shouted, looking towards the office. "Call the Healer!"
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. Her fingers clutched the sheets. Madam Pomfrey ran to Hermione's bed and looked at her. "This is new," she whispered.
"I've gotta get Draco," Ginny said. "He absolutely has to be here."
Madam Pomfrey didn't even have to ask why. As Hermione, still asleep, continued to fidget, the nurse nodded.
"Go and fetch him, Miss Weasley. In the meantime I'll do some quick checks. When you come back, I'll go and get Agnes."
At that moment Hermione opened her eyes and Ginny exclaimed in surprise. She wanted to rush to the brunette's neck, but held back, unsure of her frailty. It was tears that flowed from Ginny's eyes.
"Hermione?" she sobbed. "Oh my God, Hermione..."
Madam Pomfrey blinked several times and touched Hermione's forehead. "Miss Granger," she breathed, emotional. "What a delight it is to see you. Don't move. Look at me. You must be confused. I need to run some tests."
Ginny, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or sob, did both at the same time, her gaze still fixed on her friend. Slowly, Hermione's mouth stretched delicately into a small smile.
"Ginny..." she croaked.
Her voice was broken and pained. Hermione realised that she was unable to clear her throat, it was too sensitive. The sound that came out of her was unfamiliar. Was it really her voice?
"Don't speak, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey urged.
Ginny took her friend's hand between hers and squeezed it loosely.
"Draco..." Hermione whispered, trying to look around. "Draco..."
"He's in class, but I'll go get him!"
"Don't bother him—" the brunette quietly continued, but her friend had already left.
The redheaded witch immediately dashed out of the infirmary at an astonishing speed. Her robe was rattling behind her, her hair was flopping all over the place. Panting, heart pounding, she still wanted to laugh and cry. Hermione... Her sweet Hermione was back! She dashed off to Charm class and opened the door in a huff, out of breath.
Professor Flitwick paused, and the whole class gasped as Ginny stormed in. Draco jumped in his chair.
"Ex... Excuse me, Professor," Ginny gasped, looking around for Draco.
When Draco saw Ginny's face, her eyes bright, smiling broadly, he knew. He jumped up from his seat, tripped over his own feet and fell very awkwardly to the floor. He got up without saying anything and rushed out of the classroom, ignoring Flitwick's protests. Blaise, Harry and Ron stood dumbfounded in their seats, giving each other confused looks. Blaise was the first to react.
"She's awake!" he exclaimed.
Harry and Ron's eyes widened and all three jumped out of their seats.
"Mr. Zabini! Mr. Potter! Mr. Weasley!" protested Flitwick. "You'll get detention!"
"Fine by me!" answered Blaise happily.
They left the classroom.
Blood pounded in Draco's temples. His breathing quickened the closer he got to the infirmary. He couldn't think of one thing at a time. Ginny was trying to run as fast as he was. Behind them, much further away, Blaise, Harry and Ron were also running down the corridors.
Draco entered the infirmary and stopped dead in his tracks when he looked at Hermione. Her face was turned towards him, as if she was waiting for him. The Slytherin felt his heart swell, and every word he knew raced through his head. The ocean hit the volcano. The earth collided with the moon. A colony of birds flew into his chest.
Hermione looked at Draco and felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She had never found him more handsome. The hair longer, the tie looser, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up at the elbows, the cheeks a little more hollow...
"You didn't have to miss a class to—" she began in a husky voice she still didn't recognise.
But Draco rushed to her bed, gently caught her face between his palms and pressed his lips to hers before she could say anything more. The universe exploded. Time pulsed. It was the best thing he'd tasted in weeks. Even months. When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, he kept his forehead pressed to hers and let his breath mingle with her own.
"You're really here," he whispered. "You're really here…"
"I'm here," Hermione replied softly.
Madam Pomfrey left them to their privacy and went to Ginny. "I can't allow too many visitors at once," she said. "I have to close the doors of the infirmary until the Healer comes for her."
"Can I..." Ginny gasped, breathless, "can I stay?"
"I'm sorry, I'll allow Mr. Malfoy to stay for the time being. I hope you understand."
Ginny didn't want to argue, so she walked out of the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey closed the doors. She waited, and a few seconds later Blaise, Harry and Ron arrived.
"We have to..." Ginny began, catching her breath, "we have to wait a bit."
"She's awake?" breathed Harry.
Ginny smiled, eyes still wet. "Yes… Yes, she is."
"By Merlin's thick, bushy bloody beard!" Ron gasped.
Madam Pomfrey had chosen this moment to return to her office, not to intrude on Draco and Hermione's special moment, to warn Minerva and to fetch the Healer. The doors to the infirmary were locked. When she disappeared into her fireplace, Hermione and Draco were truly alone.
Draco stroked her hair. He sat down on her bed. "I don't know what I would have done if I had never seen your eyes again," he confessed quietly.
Hermione started to cry, tried to sit up slightly and put her arms around the Slytherin. She clung to him, like a lifeline in the middle of a storm. Draco reacted instinctively and slid one hand behind her back and another to support her head. He buried his face in her hair and sucked in a breath. God. She still smelled of wind, vanilla, and life. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was sure she felt it against her.
"You must be so confused," he murmured, not letting go of his grip on her. "I'm here. I won't leave you."
"M-Madam Pomfrey told me what d-day it was," Hermione cried against him. "I thought that... you might have... you might have forgotten me... that someone else might h-have—"
He pulled her away from him just enough to look into her wet amber irises. "Never," he replied. "I won't let you finish that sentence, Hermione. Don't ever believe such a thing again. I was out of air and now I can feel myself breathe."
She did not answer. All she wanted was to stay with him. To stay in his arms, to talk to him, to touch him.
"You don't know what a hell it was without you..." he told her.
She felt something drip down her chin, but it wasn't her own tears. They were Draco's.
"Don't call me a crybaby anymore," she smiled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
The Slytherin hugged her again and closed his eyes. "Nothing matters to me anymore," he whispered. "All that matters now is you."
This statement made Hermione's stomach knot. And for the second time Draco kissed her, resting her gently against her pillows. A real passionate kiss. He ravaged her hair with his hands. His arms hugged her hips without hurting her. She felt safe. She wanted nothing more. Draco's body against her was all she needed.
"Hermione..." he finally breathed, breaking off their kiss. "Hermione, look at me."
He took her face between his palms and she looked into his metallic eyes. He was, once again, on the edge of nothing, and could see his toes wiggling just above the void. He let himself fall into the universe.
"I love you, Hermione."
Three little words. Three little words that changed the Gryffindor's life. Her heart clenched, swelled, burst. Her stomach knotted, stretched, tore. She widened her eyes, stammered, but before she could say anything, Draco continued, unable to stop himself.
"You don't have to say it back. It's hard to explain, but I've fallen even more in love with you while you've been gone... I've had over two months to live without you and think about everything I feel for you. You haven't had that opportunity yet to think about everything. You're two months behind and that's okay. I just want you to know that I don't expect you to say anything. I'll wait as long as it takes, Hermione, I'll wait for you for days or weeks or years. It's you. And it will always be you. You're it for me."
Hermione continued to cry, unable to stop her tears. Her head was too full to say anything. In her head were the last memories of the Forest, of Blaise leaning over her, of Duncan stabbing her, and then her brother's ghostly face, and all sorts of scattered thoughts of random classes notes, quotes from The Lord of the Rings, and the voices of her friends.
The Slytherin did not let go of his embrace and held her close until Madam Pomfrey and Agnes came storming in two minutes later. Agnes' expression changed to one of pure joy. She talked with Hermione for thirty minutes, performing several tests and checks to establish the young witch's general health. Madam Pomfrey assisted her and noted her observations.
When she finished, Agnes smoothed her Healer's robes and addressed Madam Pomfrey, occasionally looking at Draco in the corner. "She is fine," she announced, "but she is weak. She needs to get her strength back. She will need to eat, but not too much at first to let her stomach regulate itself for digestion. Her voice needs to be spared, but it will come back quickly. She especially needs to rest. I advise limiting visits. No more than two people at a time, and no more than two hours a day."
"How much longer does she have to stay here?" Draco asked.
"At least a week," said Agnes. "I'll come back to see her in three days. And in a week."
Before she returned to the chimney, Draco laid his hand gently on her arm.
"Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you for everything..."
She smiled warmly at him. "I'm sure you helped her come back. In your own way. Goodbye, Mr. Malfoy."
"Call me Draco."
"Call me Agnes."
The Healer left the infirmary through the chimney and Madam Pomfrey turned to Hermione. "I believe your friends are still waiting outside...are you up to greet them?"
"Yes!" Hermione gasped, her eyes shining. "Yes, please..."
Madam Pomfrey nodded and headed for the exit, and Draco took the opportunity to take the brunette's hand again.
"Fuck, I know there are four of them waiting to see you, but that means I have to leave you for today," he grumbled. "Maybe Pomfrey will let me come back for a few minutes tonight..."
"If not... you'll come back tomorrow, won't you?" the Gryffindor croaked in a weak voice.
"Granger, you can't get rid of me that easily anymore."
He smiled tenderly and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he heard the doors to the infirmary open. "There's so much I want to say and do to you," he murmured.
He had to summon all his willpower to get off the bed and leave her, his soles heavy as lead, and passed Harry and Ron as they entered the infirmary. The boys hugged their friend and sat on either side of her bed and talked to her. They didn't want to tire her out and instead let her ask questions rather than ask all the burning questions themselves. Madam Pomfrey came to warn them when there were only thirty minutes left for visitors to let Ginny and Blaise in.
Harry and Ron left her and Ginny entered first, excited, followed by Blaise. Hermione smiled broadly at her best friend, but as soon as Blaise appeared within sight, a shriek escaped her lips and she pulled her knees up against her. The memory, too clear, too vivid, of the Slytherin in his ball clothes on top of her in the snow, violently inserting his fingers inside her, leapt into her mind. She could not help but cry out in horror and Madam Pomfrey rushed out of her office, alarmed.
Blaise froze in horror and felt the oxygen leave him. Without further ado, he turned and fled from the infirmary, his throat and heart clenching. Ginny watched the Slytherin run, watched her girl friend gesticulate in panic, and didn't know what to do. Why hadn't they thought of that? Of course it was gonna happen... It was Blaise, or at least his appearance, that had tortured her that night. Finally, Ginny approached her friend to reassure her.
"Sweetie, I'm here," breathed the redhead. "Look at me. It's your friend Blaise. Blaise Zabini. Duncan isn't here. He's far away. Nobody's going to hurt you, look at me. Hermione, you're safe…"
Hermione stopped screaming, but her tears quietly flowed. Her whole body was shaking. Madam Pomfrey gave her a soothing potion and the effect was almost instantaneous.
Blaise didn't turn up for his second class of the afternoon, nor did he for dinner.
When Ginny explained what had happened in the infirmary with Blaise, Draco gritted his teeth. He too had not thought about the fact that Hermione might still be traumatized about Blaise, even though she knew that it wasn't really him who had tortured her. Draco thought about his friend and how miserable he must feel. He left dinner early and ran towards the Slytherin common room.
When he arrived at the dormitory, it was completely empty, but everything was a mess, as if a hurricane had rampaged everything. Mostly around Blaise's bed. Draco swore. Blaise's broom was gone.
Draco walked all the way to his own dorm, grabbed his broom and coat and ran outside. At the Quidditch field, Draco spotted Blaise on his broom beating a Quaffle with a bat in the goal rings. The Quaffle, probably charmed, kept coming back to him. Draco could hear him grunt every time his bat made contact with the Quaffle. He hopped over his broom, stamped his foot and took off quickly.
"Zab!" he shouted.
Blaise ignored him and continued to bang with great force against the Quaffle.
"Zab!" repeated Draco, now closer. "I heard what happened."
Blaise stopped and caught the Quaffle in his arms as its trajectory returned to him. He was out of breath. The blond wizard saw in his friend's face how unsettled he was.
"What happens now, Malfoy, huh?" he growled as he struck another hit on the Quaffle.
Draco followed the Quaffle's trail as it slammed into the post with a deafening metallic clang before quickly returning to Blaise.
"I won't be able to see her anymore?" He struck again. The ball returned. "I won't be able to talk to her?"
Another hit, even more aggressive. "WHY DID THIS HAPPEN, FUCK!" he shouted, banging the Quaffle with all his might as soon as it was within reach. "WHY CAN EVERYONE ELSE CONTINUE TO BE HER FRIEND BUT ME?"
Draco remained silent and let the dark Slytherin continue his blows against the Quaffle. After a moment, Blaise struck one last time and let the Quaffle return without catching it. He dropped his bat, which fell to the ground, and the ball fell immediately afterwards, as if the charm was broken. Blaise kept his head down, hands clasped on the end of his broom, knuckles white, and tried to control his breathing. When his shoulders began to shake, Draco realised that his friend was crying.
He flew towards him and moved closer. Their knees were almost touching.
"I didn't do that to her..." he said in a hoarse, broken voice.
"I know..." Draco huffed.
"I would never hurt her, and I'd never think of it."
"I know."
"I just—" He sighed and wiped his eyes angrily. "I just want my friend back."
Draco swallowed and nodded. His hair lifted gently in the cool breeze. "I'm sure she hates feeling this way," Draco finally said. "It's Granger. You know her. Of course she feels guilty. I'm sure she's torturing herself right now because she can't control her reaction towards you. You're her friend too."
Blaise said nothing and stared at the horizon, letting his breathing return to normal.
"You know," Draco continued calmly, "Polyjuice doesn't affect the voice that much. You talked to her and read to her when she was in a coma, right?"
"Yeah."
"It's a theory we'll have to check with her, but fucking Duncan probably didn't have your voice when he had your appearance."
Blaise frowned and looked at his friend, unsure of what he was getting at.
"What if she's able to hear you only without seeing you?" Draco went on. "You can spend time with her like that. It would only be for starters."
Blaise shook his head. "I get it, Malfoy, but I don't want to spend my life hiding under a sheet so I can be with my friend."
"You both need to talk to each other," Draco said sternly. "It's only for starters. Little by little we'll try to see if she can get used to seeing you—"
"She's suffered enough, I don't want to make her suffer any more."
"Zab."
Blaise looked at his friend and clenched his jaw.
"You have to try, at least," Draco said. "Okay? I'll talk to her."
The next day, just before lunch, when Draco went to visit Hermione, he hurried to hold her close.
"Merlin, you're still awake," he breathed into her hair.
"Of course I am!"
Her voice had recovered some of its power and personality.
"Sometimes I just imagine that you'll go back to sleep... for a long time," Draco said. "That you won't wake up again."
Hermione pulled away from him gently and stroked his cheek. She planted a kiss on his cheek. "Don't worry. You're still stuck with me."
Draco smiled tenderly and kissed her wrist, turning his chin. "I'm sorry for what you went through yesterday," he finally whispered. "Blaise is... Blaise is a total mess."
Hermione automatically felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She missed Blaise. She really wanted to see him, in the flesh, and tap him on the shoulder like she often did. But as soon as she saw his face in her mind, the memory of his face, hard and cruel, plunged in the darkness of the Forest, broke all her happy memories of him. She swallowed the knot in her throat.
"I wish I could see him…" she said in a small voice. "I feel so bad... It's not his fault."
Draco kissed her forehead, feeling the brunette's emotion coursing through his veins. "I'm sorry to make you think of this," he said, "but can you remember if... his voice was different that night? Was it really Blaise's voice?"
Hermione closed her eyes and sank back into the night with difficulty. His voice was firm, steady, but something about it made her doubt. The tone was not the same. The witch trembled and Draco squeezed her hand warmly. She couldn't identify this new intonation she sensed in Blaise's voice.
Hermione opened her eyes and fought back the tears that did not fall. "No," she whispered. "That wasn't his voice. It was different."
Draco was relieved and explained the idea he had had. Hermione agreed immediately. She gripped her partner's hand tighter as she remembered what she wanted to say. "Draco, that night I, was able to enter Duncan's mind…"
Before the Slytherin could answer, she beat him to it. "I think I'm a Legilimens," she breathed.
Draco's lips parted. "Really?"
"I mastered the spell…"
"I could teach you Occlumency," he offered, still surprised.
She gave him a thin smile. "In due time. But what I wanted to tell you…"
Her gaze was filled with urgency, probing her partner's grey eyes. "I saw in his mind that when he joined the Death Eaters, Voldemort called him 'Mackie'. I remember you telling me something about him a while ago, but I'm just… my memories before the… incident… are kind of foggy now."
Draco dropped her hand in shock. He blinked. Time stood still. "Mackie?" he said, his voice hoarse and unrecognizable.
Hermione realized that this nickname had triggered something in Draco. She could see it on his features. The Head Boy suddenly moved towards her, flustered. He gripped the edges of her bed firmly.
"Hermione, are you sure?" he pressed, horrified. "Are you sure about what you heard?"
She nodded, feeling panic rise in her as she realised the fear she saw in his face. "You must be sure!" he said eagerly. "Duncan is Mackie? You're absolutely sure?"
"Yes, I'm absolutely sure," she breathed. "Draco, what's wrong?"
Draco closed his eyes. "You're telling me it was Mackie who tortured you that night?" The impossibility of it couldn't overcome the horror he felt.
"Actually, it was Duncan, but yeah, Voldemort called him Mackie so it was him..." the brunette squeaked.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Draco muttered.
Hermione said nothing and let her partner continue.
"Every Death Eater knew, and still knows, Mackie. He's the Muggle Killer. He mainly killed with a knife, but he made sure that not all his victims could be connected to him, so he never killed in the same way. He would pretend to be the father of that family, the fiancé of one woman, the friend of another, a distant cousin. He would spend time with all these Muggles before finally killing them in some way."
The Lioness felt the tears prickle her eyes. "This is horrible…" she breathed.
Draco stroked her forehead and sighed. "Yes... Yes, it is horrible." He took the brunette's hand again and kissed it. "I have to warn the Aurors. They need to know who they're dealing with."
He stood up, still holding the witch's hand. "I'll let Blaise know that you're ready to see him, but without actually seeing him."
"Thank you," Hermione murmured.
Draco left the infirmary after one last kiss, his steps hurried, determined to call out to the first Auror he came across. He stumbled upon the one who had brought him back to Hogwarts after picking him up from St. Mungo's. His name was Clyde or something like that. He was walking around on the third floor.
Draco rushed towards him. "Wait!" he shouted to signal his presence.
The Auror, whose name was actually Clive, turned and froze when he noticed the Slytherin running towards him. He didn't particularly like him, let alone trust him. Every Auror knew the reputation of the Malfoys and the part they had played in the last war.
"I have some crucial information," Draco said as he reached him.
Clive kept a detached air and let the young wizard speak.
"You probably know that Hermione has woken up," Draco said.
The Auror nodded quietly.
"The night she was attacked, she did a Legilimency spell. She was in Duncan's mind and saw his memories."
"She told you that?"
"Yes, and she saw that Voldemort called Duncan 'Mackie'."
The Auror said nothing, unfazed. Draco widened his eyes and waved his arms in the air. "Did you hear me?" he cried. "Duncan MacMillan is Mackie! The fucking MACKIE!"
"I heard you, Mr. Malfoy. I would ask you to keep your voice down."
"What the hell is the matter with you? I have just informed you that the man you seek is the dreaded Mackie! A legend among Death Eaters!"
"We know Mackie, Mr. Malfoy," Clive said calmly.
"Do something!" exploded Draco. "Anything! Go warn your colleagues!"
"Keep your voice down," ordered the Auror, looking threatening.
The Slytherin suddenly realised that he wasn't being taken seriously. His words were undermined. Why would he make up such a thing?
"Even if you don't believe me," he added hastily, "you must at least check. That's your job! You can't afford to ignore this information, and you know it."
"I'll discuss it with my colleagues."
Draco could hardly believe it. He tried to control his breathing, swallowing the rage that wanted to erupt from him.
"Why don't you believe me?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Clive gave a half smile. "Mr. Malfoy, with all due respect, I find it hard to believe that a tortured teenager in the middle of the night could perform the Legilimency spell for the first time while in pain. I also find it hard to believe that Mackie, the dreaded one, as you call him, fits the profile of Duncan MacMiller, a former Ravenclaw with excellent grades."
"It's the SAME man!" shouted Draco in disbelief. "Go talk to Hermione! Go get her memories! You've already been told that MacMiller, the former Ravenclaw, is in fact a MacMillan, a Pureblood and a Sacred 28!"
Clive raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that Duncan MacMiller, Duncan MacMillan and Mackie are actually, this whole time, the same person?"
"YES!"
The Auror struggled to hide his doubt. He didn't want to sound arrogant, but the absurdity of this young wizard's words with no real field experience of the job almost fascinated him. He swallowed his mockery.
"I'll discuss it with my colleagues," he repeated.
Draco steamed, exhaling a burning breath through his nostrils. He gritted his teeth. He felt like strangling him.
"If I hear that nothing has changed in a week, I'll pay your Minister a visit myself!" he spat, before turning on his heels with an angry step.
That evening Madam Pomfrey had installed a privacy curtain around Hermione's bed. Draco had taken care to briefly explain the situation to her regarding the Gryffindor's trauma about Blaise and the whole damn Polyjuice thing. She could intervene at any time she saw fit if Hermione showed signs of panic.
The curtain was already drawn around her bed and all Hermione could hear were footsteps clattering on the floor. She looked up at the ceiling. The bedside lights were casting an orange halo against the curtains. The legs of the chair creaked slightly as Blaise took his seat.
"Mia?" he said.
Hermione smiled as she heard his voice. It was easier if she kept her eyes open.
"Hi," she answered to the ceiling.
"Bloody hell, have you heard yourself speak? You sound so weird!"
"Shut up, Blaise," she laughed. "It'll come back and I can chew your ears like before."
"You're dreaming!"
Blaise allowed himself to laugh for a moment and looked at the curtains. He really would have liked to see her face. He frowned, knowing full well that she could not see his expression, and cleared his throat.
"Mia, if at any time you don't feel well, I want you to tell me to leave."
"Blaise—"
"I'm serious. You swear to me?"
Hermione pursed her lips and nodded, but quickly realised that he couldn't see her. "Yes, I swear," she said. "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for—"
"I don't want to hear it," he cut her off. "You never have to apologize for what you went through. Okay?"
The Lioness swallowed. A nagging headache was starting to creep up on her, but she ignored it. She wanted to extend her moment with Blaise.
"Okay," she breathed. "So, you're going to tell me about you and Ginny, are you?"
Blaise laughed.
"I want all the details," said Hermione. "But I have to tell you that if you hurt her, I will break your knees, you understand?"
"Oh, I know."
They talked together for another twenty minutes before Hermione felt sleepy and her eyelids grew heavy. Before he could let her sleep, Blaise gulped.
"Mia?"
"Yes," he said.
"Did... did Duncan... hold you? Or hug, something like that?"
"Not really. He pushed me around, mostly."
"Can I do it? I know it's weird to ask. You can keep your eyes closed all the while..."
Hermione felt her lips tremble and her eyes automatically moisten. Her heart sped up.
"If it's too much, say no," Blaise said hurriedly. "Please."
"It's— I think it's too soon," the brunette murmured. "I'm sorry…"
"Okay. Hey, don't worry about it. You need your sleep."
Unexpectedly, Blaise inserted his index finger into the gap between two curtains and Hermione smiled. She took his index finger in her palm and they did that funny handshake, the same way they had so long ago when she was in the infirmary with Ron.
"Good night, Zabini."
"Good night, Granger."
Their contact ended.
For the next few days, Hermione spent most of her days sleeping when she wasn't being visited. Draco came back every day, before every meal. Sometimes she slept, and he made sure to leave her a little note to let her know that he had stopped by, that she was beautiful when she slept, and that he would return soon. The Gryffindor was touched by his many attentions and kept replaying the statement he had made to her. I'll wait as long as it takes, Hermione, I'll wait for you for days or weeks or years. It's you. And it will always be you. You're it for me. Her heart leapt in her chest as soon as she heard his voice echoing in her head and calming all her thoughts.
She had asked for every possible detail of her visit to St. Mungo's and Draco had given her as much as he could. When he told her that it was a Phoenix who had entered the room and healed her most serious wounds, Hermione couldn't believe it. The last time she had heard of a Phoenix interfering was when Fawkes had gone to rescue Harry in the Chamber of Secrets.
Agnes came to visit her three days after she had woken up, as expected, and noted the stable improvement in her condition. Her voice had almost fully returned and she was getting stronger. McGonagall took the opportunity to meet and talk to her.
Minister Kingsley had been visited by Auror Clive who was assigned at Hogwarts and had received the information from Draco Malfoy. Clive still obviously didn't believe the young wizard's statements, but Kingsley advised him that it was best to check anyway. He trusted the young Malfoy, and in any case, he couldn't understand how this lie was of any use to Draco, if it was really a lie.
"We're looking for a murderer, Clive," Kingsley had said gravely. "All information counts."
"He said Duncan MacMiller was a MacMillan, a Sacred 28."
"There's probably a way to verify that information. Go and check with the Chairman of the Magic Archives. He probably has something for you."
Clive grunted but nodded anyway.
"As for whether Mr. Malfoy is telling the truth," Kingsley had added, "it's really a question of whether Miss Granger is telling the truth. We need her official statement. Her memories will be able to confirm it."
Clive had nodded again.
"I'll start the legal procedures straight away so we can meet Miss Granger and get her statement. From now on, if you are given any other information about this investigation, I would ask you to act as if it were true before you judge it to be false due to your personal bias."
The Auror had felt the fire rise to his cheeks. He cleared his throat. "Yes, Minister."
"You're dismissed."
Kingsley went to meet the head of the relevant Departments. Miss Granger's memories would indeed be needed for examination, especially to confirm Pansy Parkinson's incrimination and to clarify the appearance of the young man no one had seen for years, or even Mackie, whom no one had ever seen.
Ginny would end her temporary position as Head Girl as soon as Hermione was fit to resume her duties. Blaise kept showing up at the infirmary, but he always bumped the door with a special knock before opening to signal his arrival, which gave Hermione time to sadly draw the curtains around her bed before he entered. She didn't like this situation. After four days she was tired of her curtains blocking her view of her friend. She had got used to his voice and had no problem listening to him.
"I think I'm ready to see him again," she confided to Draco and Ginny who had come to visit her after dinner on Tuesday, March 9th.
"Are you sure?" asked Ginny.
"We can try," urged the Lioness.
Draco took her hand, as much out of habit as out of need, and shifted his gaze between the brunette and the redhead. "You have to take it a little at a time," he said.
"I don't know about trauma," Ginny blurted out, "but Hermione, let's face it…"
The brunette looked into her friend's eyes. Ginny continued. "Let's say you're able to look at him and be in the same room as him without... panicking, that doesn't mean you'll be comfortable. It doesn't mean that a thousand thoughts won't run through your head and stop you from actually having a good time with him."
Hermione blinked a few times and looked up at the ceiling, at a blank spot. Ginny was right.
"I want to try anyway," she said resolutely.
Draco kissed her knuckles and glanced at Ginny.
It was Draco who was present this time with Hermione when Blaise went to the infirmary the next day. It was the middle of the day, daylight was shining all over the room and the curtains around the bed were not drawn. The Head Boy was standing next to his partner, one hand in her hair. Somehow, he constantly needed to have a hand on her somewhere. He needed to feel her under him, palpable and full of life.
"Keep your eyes closed for now," Draco warned.
Hermione complied and Blaise entered the infirmary, wearing his wizard's robes. He walked over to the Gryffindor's bed. It was the first time he had seen her in months. But with her eyes closed, she seemed back in her sleep, as if nothing had changed.
"Does hearing my voice help?" he asked.
Hermione nodded, her eyelids still pressed firmly together.
"Open your eyes when you're ready, Hermione," Draco breathed, taking her hand.
"Tell me to leave anytime," Blaise added.
The Lioness kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, her heart racing. Hearing Blaise's voice no longer had any effect on her, it had become like hearing Harry's voice. How she wished everything was simple. She prepared herself mentally. The person I'm going to see is not the one who hurt me. The person I'm going to see is not the one who tortured me, she repeated to herself.
She opened her eyes. Almost immediately her throat closed and her nails dug into her palm. It was Blaise. Her friend. Draco felt the pressure of her hand.
Blaise was smiling at her. But she could see his evil smile again in the night.
Her heart was pounding. Too hard. She tried to control her breathing. It was Blaise. Her friend.
"It's alright, Hermione," Draco whispered.
"Do you want me to keep talking? Blaise asked. "Hearing my voice and associating it with my face can help you, maybe?"
Hermione, her eyes still wide, nodded. Blaise began to talk to her, about anything and everything. She tried to concentrate on the sound of his voice, but the sight of his face cancelled out her efforts. In her mind it was the same person who had spewed his smoke into her mouth, who had penetrated her with two violent fingers, and who had sliced her with a knife.
She began to pant, but kept her eyes open. She had to succeed. It was Blaise. Her friend. She had to control her thoughts.
"Tell me to leave," Blaise suddenly blurted out, noticing her soundless panic.
"No," Hermione retorted through her teeth.
"Hermione..." Draco began, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Tell me to leave!" Blaise repeated.
"No!" cried the Lioness. "I can do it."
But it was a lie. In her head, everything collided. The glint of the knife in the moonlight. The smoke from the cigarette. His laughter. His smile. His lips. His hands.
"TELL ME TO LEAVE, MIA!"
"NO!" she screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"FUCK! WHY ARE YOU THIS STUBBORN?" Blaise decided for her and stormed off, angry at the world.
When he disappeared, Hermione allowed herself to sob once more, her whole body shaking. Draco leaned over her gently and reassured her, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her ears, her head. Eventually, exhausted by her emotions, the brunette fell asleep with white marks on her cheeks.
Blaise did not return to visit her. Hermione stayed in the infirmary until Agnes' last visit. McGonagall was also present. The Gryffindor was dismissed, but not without leaving with several Potions prescriptions to control her dreams and the bouts of tiredness or migraines that could return regularly.
Ginny had already moved out of the dorm and returned to the Gryffindor common room. The first night that Hermione, accompanied by her partner, entered the dorm she hadn't been in for so long, she stopped just past the portrait.
"Welcome home," Draco whispered.
The brunette sighed heavily. "It looks… It feels weird," she admitted.
The Slytherin came up behind her and slowly put his arms around her shoulders, hugging her from behind. He kissed her temple. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the warmth of her partner that she felt on her back. They remained in that position.
"I've missed this," Draco quietly said. "How I've missed you…"
"Draco, I— " The witch stopped and pursed her lips. "I'm so sorry," she continued. "I was so careless, I walked right into the trap so easily, Pansy was—"
"Don't," he said, sliding his hands over her hips and turning her to face him. "You can't keep apologising for something you've endured."
Hermione nodded, even though inside she felt herself seething. She knew that she had missed two months of her life, but on the other hand, she had memories, as if she was aware of many things without having experienced them.
"I... I'm so confused," she breathed, lowering her head.
"I know. Can I... is there anything I can do to help you?"
"No..." She looked up at him. She didn't know how it was possible, but she found him more and more beautiful, and her heart swelled a little more each day when she thought of him. Her friends had told her what he was like when she was asleep. How much he had done for her. How sickly he had gotten for her. She wanted to share everything with him. To never leave him. She smiled tenderly at him.
"You've already done everything," she said softly.
"Are you confused about this?" he asked as he tightened his grip on her a little more, gently sliding the tip of his nose against her temple.
"No," she murmured. She grabbed the collar of his shirt. "No, I'm not."
She pulled his mouth to hers and let the stars in her head twinkle one after the other. Draco was like a lighthouse that lit up her storm and brought her back to shore. His response was quick, ravenous and tender at the same time. Their tongues found their way to each other like two old lovers. They couldn't have kissed like that in the infirmary. Draco trapped her bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled on it gently. The Gryffindor pressed herself against him a little more and Draco grunted against her mouth. His chest heaved in rhythm with her breathing.
Slowly, as if to avoid crushing her, he pushed her carefully until he could pin her against a wall. The sensations were wonderful. She tasted so sweet.
"I've been waiting for this," he muttered between their lips. "I've waited so long for this…"
Hermione slipped her arms behind his neck and let him lean his weight against her. He went down to her neck and something inside her clicked. She dug her nails into his shoulders and tilted her head back to give him more access. The Slytherin shuddered.
"I've never wanted anything so much," he growled in a hoarse voice.
His breath was hot against her. Again, the Lioness felt a headache arise and bang against her ears, as if to remind her that she could not afford too much. A shiver ran through her. But the young man kept kissing her, caressing her, exploring her skin and... Merlin, how could she ever pull away?
"Are you okay?" he breathed, feeling her tremble as he kept his mouth on her collarbone.
"Y-Yes."
He lifted his head and looked at her. He knew her intonations and body language too well now.
"You can't lie to me anymore, Granger," he said slightly sternly. "You're shaking."
He looked at her mischievously. "As much as I'd like to do that to you, I know it's not because of me that you're shaking. It's different."
Hermione couldn't help but close her eyes under the onslaught of her headache, which was now becoming much worse.
"It's your head," he murmured worriedly, noticing the creasing lines on her forehead.
He didn't wait any longer. He took her hand and led her to her own bedroom. "Come," he prompted smoothly.
Hermione let him lead her, feeling much more limp and amorphous. Was her health still so fragile? She let Draco lay her down in the bed she hadn't been in for so long. The sheets were familiar, but soaked with the smell of her partner. Good.
"Tell me what Potion you have to take," he whispered, resting the back of his hand against her forehead.
"Painless Head," she replied.
Draco rummaged through the bag Madam Pomfrey had prepared for her with several vials. He returned with the Potion in hand. He gave her a sip, following the instructions, which she was to hold in her mouth for 6 seconds before swallowing.
He was extremely fascinated by the healing power of Potions and the many treatments he had seen Agnes perform. Here, right now, in this very moment, he felt at ease. He felt good. He had power over something. He was able to help her, even if it was only through a Potion. He was not powerless, helpless, witnessing the suffering worsen and deteriorate like it had on the night of the Ball.
Eventually Hermione's eyelids drooped with fatigue and she offered him a weak smile. "I'm sorry I interrupted that really wild make out session."
A playful smile tugged at Draco's lips. "We'll have many more, Granger."
"I'm counting on you."
Hermione fell into a heavy sleep almost immediately, still fully dressed. The Slytherin looked at her for a few moments before sliding in beside her.
The next day, the Gryffindors did not have joint classes with the Slytherins, but Hermione decided not to go to her classes just yet. She would give herself some time. At least the weekend. She had made a decision.
Minister Kingsley, McGonagall and the head of criminal depositions at the Wizengamot, Serephine Hawthorne, met with Hermione in McGonagall's office. All of Hermione's friends were in class. But anyway, she wanted to do it alone. Afterwards, everything would be better, everything would change.
She was welcomed into the office with open arms. She was offered tea. Then she was given as much time as she wanted to recount the events of December 21st. It was a good thing she had taken a calming potion before coming, as she was still feeling agitated. Mrs Hawthorne recorded everything she said and when she had finished she opened a small box and handed her a vial.
"You are brave, Miss Granger. All you have to do now is hand over the memory. We can go over the details of what happened without bothering you further."
Hermione grabbed her wand, raised it to her temple and with accuracy pulled out her memory of December 21st, including everything she had seen in Duncan's head. The extraction felt like a plant slowly being pulled out of the ground. A silver thread wrapped around her wand. She carefully placed the memory in the vial and returned it to the box. She repeated the same process and placed a duplicate memory in another vial.
"Can I keep this one?" she asked, holding up the second vial.
"Of course," replied Mrs. Hawthorne.
McGonagall, Kingsley and Hawthorne talked with her some more. The Minister seemed to mention that a capture plan was being worked out with some Aurors, and that it might take place at Hogwarts. Everything was uncertain.
Hermione left the office, still disturbed by the memories she had just revisited. But her mind was made up. She walked out into the corridors and headed for the class she knew the Gryffindors would be leaving in a few moments. Harry finally appeared outside the classroom and she rushed towards him, pulling him aside.
"Hermione?" he began. "You—"
"I've made up my mind," she cut him off, speaking more quietly. "About Blaise."
"What about him?"
"I want him out of my head."
"What? What are you—"
"You, Ron and Ginny are the only ones who remember what Duncan looked like during his time at Hogwarts. He's... He's changed, but you have to try anyway."
Harry frowned. "Try what, Hermione?"
"I refuse to continue living scared of Blaise. He hasn't done anything. It hurts him as much as it hurts me. I've already submitted my memories and statement to the Ministry."
The Gryffindor boy still didn't understand where his friend was going with this. He looked into her determined eyes. Hermione lifted her chin, resolute.
"I'd like to ask you if you can alter my memories of that night. All I want is to erase Blaise's appearance from my memory. Replace it with Duncan's. It was him all along, anyway."
"Hermione—"
"It's worth a try!" she exclaimed. "Harry, I can't lose a friend over this!"
The Lioness softened slightly and looked around before returning her attention to Harry. "It might not work," she continued. "I'll still be aware that Duncan used Polyjuice on Blaise, but I won't actually see it. My experience of Blaise hurting me will change. It won't be him I remember. Do you understand, Harry?"
Harry pursed his lips.
"You can't suffer over something you don't remember," Hermione whispered. "That's all I want. For Blaise's appearance to disappear from my memory that night."
"I don't know if I'm good enough..."
"I trust you, Harry. Look, I—"
She showed him the small vial of her undamaged memory that she had pulled out of her head. "I have the whole film of the evening exactly as it happened in here. I will never open that vial. But the truth will always exist."
"What if I erase something I shouldn't? What if it gets worse? Is it really worth it?"
"You won't have to erase anything. Just replace. Replace Blaise's face that night with Duncan's. Please... I can't bear to be afraid of someone I care about who hasn't done anything to me."
"Is… Erm, is Malfoy okay with this plan?"
"He doesn't need to know right now. And I don't need his permission."
"Does Blaise even know?"
Hermione shook her head. Her eyes were starting to water. Her gaze blurred. "He can't be upset," she said, her throat tightening. "I'm doing this for him and myself. For the sake of our friendship. Please, Harry... Please."
Harry thought for a moment. He knew the enchantment, but never had to perform it. He wanted to help his friend, obviously. He read the despair on her face, her pleading, distraught eyes. She deserved a try.
"All right," he said. "I'll do it."
When the night falls on you
You don't know what to do
Nothing you confess
Could make me love you less
Chrissie Hynde, I'll Stand By You