Hermione's Point of View
I have to admit I was scared to death when I heard Malfoy's voice behind me. If there is anything to banish a moment of self-pity, it is terror.
When I had pulled myself together and turned to face the albino ferret, I was expecting some form of the normal yet random taunts and cruelty that had been the hallmark of our relationship since we were eleven.
So to say I was shocked when instead of rudeness and taunts he blushed and Transfigured me a nightgown, would be a huge understatement.
I surprised myself by asking him to stay. I think it surprised him, too. To be honest, I didn't really want him to stay. Not him. He looked too much like the face in my nightmares, too damn much like his father.
But I really didn't want to be alone with my thoughts, my memories.
If I had answered him honestly, I would have told him that I needed someone who cared about me. I needed my mother, or Molly, or Minerva by preference. They would have understood. If they weren't available, I think Severus would have understood, too, even if I had the frightening suspicion that Severus's understanding would have been from having been forced to inflict this kind of pain on some poor woman… Harry and Ron would have been acceptable as a substitute. While they would have been clueless to help me, I never doubted that they loved me. Of course, they would have taken one look at me and left to pursue revenge, deciding for me that that's what I needed most, and leaving me once again alone with my thoughts and memories…
Ron. My heart ached at the thought of Ron. God. He would not react well to this. Not at all. I hoped that he would support me, but a small part of me wondered if he would blame me for what had happened in his hurt at his inability to protect me. Otherwise, he would probably blame Severus for not protecting me. Which would be unfortunate, as I suspected that Severus already blamed himself. At least in part.
But, Malfoy? No. I didn't really want him with me. He met none of my criteria. He didn't understand. Not really. He certainly didn't care about me. Quite the opposite.
When I asked if he had any books, he didn't seem surprised in the slightest. I supposed I was being a bit stereotypical of myself. Imagine, the Bookworm being comforted by books…
He presented me with an interesting challenge, though. Research. I could never resist research.
With a research question firmly in mind, I dug into the pile of tomes, finally finding a way of forgetting, if only temporarily, what had happened.
It was engaged in the pursuit of knowledge that Nena found us when she returned from Hogwarts, burdened with my trunk.
With what was perhaps my first smile since I had arrived at the Shrieking Shack that afternoon, I fell on the trunk, pulling up the lid and digging through the possessions she had brought me.
My first thought was an immediate need for clean knickers.
Even though the nightgown Malfoy had created for me was high-necked and long, literally covering me from my chin down to the floor, leaving only my hands exposed, I felt naked without knickers.
I also dug out a pair of pajama pants made of a soft cotton flannel, a Muggle sports bra, and last year's Christmas jumper from Molly.
"I'll wait in the hall," Malfoy said, clearly seeing that I was desperate to feel clothed in normalcy.
Looking up at him, I nodded, and once he had shut the door behind him, I wasted no time in changing into my comfortable clothing. Deciding that the jumper may eventually be too warm, I added a tee-shirt layer, before climbing back into the bed and calling out to Malfoy to come back in.
Slowly, he pushed the door open, and seeing me once more huddled under the covers, came fully back into the room.
Draco's Point of View
Seeing Granger dressed again, I felt a bit better. She looked more like her old self, ready to take on the world.
I took my seat beside the bed again, and looked at her for a moment.
"Granger, you're going to need another coat of salve on your face. The bruises aren't completely gone."
"Hmm," was her only reply.
"Can we talk for a minute?" I asked her.
She put her book down and looked at me, clearly waiting for me to continue.
"Granger, I need to know what your plans are now. And what, if anything, you want me to do, to help you."
The look of surprise on her face was priceless.
"Why, Malfoy? Why do you want to help?"
"Does there have to be a reason?"
"If you were anyone else? No, probably not. But for you? Yes. Malfoy, I need to know why you would want to help me. What's in it for you? Why are you being nice to a Mudblood?"
"Don't call yourself that."
"Why not? You've been calling me that since we were twelve. Your father called me that, too. It's what I am in the wizarding world, after all."
"Granger," I could see the tears forming in her eyes again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about being a prick all these years and for what my father did to you. Please, don't cry anymore…" Gods, I was pleading with her. I didn't think I could take another round of tears.
Unfortunately, my pleading seemed to have the opposite effect, and a loud sob escaped her.
I moved without conscious though. Pushing the pile of books to the floor, I gathered Granger in my arms and held her while she cried, gently rocking her. After a few minutes, although it seemed like hours had passed, she quieted. During the entire interlude, I didn't speak, didn't offer any words or sounds of comfort. It was eerily silent as her noises went from sobs, to sniffles, to silence.
Becoming self-conscious, I gently began to pull away, realizing where I was and who I was with. I was unsure what was appropriate behavior in these circumstances, especially with someone I had such a… strange relationship with.
Apparently, she felt me being to distance myself, because a moment later, she pulled back, too. Scrubbing the tears from her face on the large maroon jumper she was wearing, she looked seven instead of seventeen.
"Granger, it's late, and a lot has happened today. Let me get Nena to give you your last dose for the day, and then you should try and rest."
"Malfoy, where will you be?" she asked, nervously.
"I'll make up a bed across the hall. If you need anything, just shout. Nena will hear you."
She nodded in response as Nena, apparently hearing her name through some previously-unknown elf-sense, came into the room with several vials for her to drink and another pot of salve.
With a nod to the house-elf, I retreated.
It did not take me long to use some tissue from the restroom to Transfigure another bed and bedding for myself, and before long I was trying desperately to get comfortable. A lot had happened that day; I hadn't been lying to Granger.
I was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I awoke from my dream that night shaken. I had dreamed of Severus carrying Hermione's broken form into the house again and again, the blood dripping down her fingers and pooling on the floor. Over and over, the bright red blood everywhere.
It was in my dreams that I realized that Hermione's blood looked the same as mine.
I was shocked at this simple realization.
For years, I had called her Mudblood, dirty blood, thinking that somehow, her blood was different.
Today I had seen enough of it to know how wrong I had been.
It was human blood.
Deeply troubled by the pain I had caused, I fell back into a restless sleep.
I woke up again in the middle of the night to the sound of moaning.
For a moment, I didn't remember where I was. As my brain caught up with the events of the past day, I remembered the changes that had added to the population of the Refuge.
With that remembrance, I recognized what the moaning had to mean.
Quietly, I got out of bed and wandered across the hall to what had until yesterday been my bedroom. The noises were clearly coming from inside. Reaching for my wand, I muttered, "Lumos."
I silently pushed open the door and saw the small form on the bed tossing and turning, clearly in the grip of a nightmare.
I padded over to the bedside, and reached out a tentative hand.
"Granger," I called softly.
She didn't respond.
Bending over her prone form and gently grasping her shoulder, I shook her slightly. "Granger," I called louder.
She awoke with a start, sitting upright, a soft yelp coming from her.
Her eyes found me in the half-dark , and she shrieked, pulling back as far from me as she could. "Get back!" she yelled.
"Granger, you were having a bad dream."
"Stay away!"
"Granger, I'm not going to hurt you," I said, still holding my wand.
She eyed me warily, seeming to remember where she was. Her eyes kept flicking to my wand, as if she expected me to curse her with it.
"Nox," I said quietly, putting my wand in my back pocket. As soon as the light went out, I heard her muffled sob. I was torn between exasperation and pity. "Granger, if was only a dream. You're safe. Nothing and no one is going to hurt you here."
"I know," came out of the huddled mass on the beds as she tried to talk while she was crying, a loud catch in her voice. "It's just, well, I was dreaming about what happened, and then you woke me up, and well, you look so much like your father, and I couldn't tell if it was real or a dream. I'm sorry I woke you up. You should go back to bed. I'm not worth all this trouble."
For a moment, I didn't know how to respond, confused at why she pointed out I looked like Lucius.
Everyone knew I looked like him. In fact, Mother used to joke that seeing me was like seeing him as a teenager all over again.
There was a time when I would have been flattered. Lucius was a handsome man, after all, and had never lacked for female company.
Then my sleep clogged brain realized that she wasn't giving me a compliment.
She was saying that when she looked at me, she saw her rapist.
I wanted to be sick.
Stumbling, I fled the room and her presence, taking the stairs two at a time until I found myself in the basement potions lab.
In a daze, I spent the rest of the night preparing ingredients for a Draught of Peace and brewing. Severus hadn't asked me to brew anything lately, but I could not sit idle, I needed to be busy.
I didn't stop until I saw the sun peeking through the windows at ground level.
Finally feeling both my physical and mental exhaustion, I went back to my new bedroom and collapsed into the bed, praying for oblivion.
Severus's Point of View
The next morning I Apparated to the Refuge fairly early. I had heard quite a bit from my fellow Death Eaters about what had happened the day before and had been hard pressed not to betray my cover in a fit of righteous wrath.
I had realized last night that the top priority to getting Hermione healed would be replacing her wand. She was not a functional witch without it.
Now, this would not be an easy proposition. Neither Draco nor I could openly accompany her. The Refuge was not linked to the Floo Network, and though my home was, I had not imparted it's Secret to her. To make matters worse, she shouldn't go wand shopping alone, as she would be unprotected, but if anyone other than Draco or I went, she would have to either lie to them about how she had lost her wand or tell them the truth, which I didn't think she was ready for.
No, this was not the simple task it sounded like at the outset.
The Refuge was silent when I arrived, and I decided to make my way upstairs to the room I had left her in the day before.
When I poked my head in the door, I saw that Hermione was sleeping in the middle of the bed, the covers twisted around her legs like she had engaged in a restless night of sleep. She was wearing an odd assortment of clothing, topped by a maroon jumper that had to have been made by Molly.
Seeing her there, so peaceful and yet defenseless, my heart went out to her. She looked so young, and had suffered through so much.
I must have made some noise, because he eyes snapped open and quickly found me in the doorway.
"Severus?" she asked.
"Yes, Hermione."
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to see how you were healing, and to talk to you about replacing your wand."
"Oh…" I noticed tears forming in her eyes. "I have been trying to decide how to go about that. I admit I am at a loss."
"So far, I had thought I could give you the Secret to my home. I will then Apparate you there. From my home, we can Floo to Diagon Alley. I will go with you, under my invisibility cloak, and you can purchase a wand. Alternatively, you can Floo from Diagon Alley to Headquarters, and then get Mr. Potter or Mr. Weasley to go with you. Of course, if you do that, you may have to make a lot of explanations. It is up to you who you would prefer as a shopping partner. I only ask that you not Floo to or from my home from anywhere private, as it would be too easy to trace."
"Thank you for thinking this all through. I would be relieved if you would consent to go shopping with me under your cloak. I don't want to talk to Harry or Ron yet, and you're right that I am not ready to go alone. When can we go?"
I raised an eyebrow at her, so eager to get a wand that she forgot she was still in pajamas. "Perhaps you would like to bathe and change into robes?" I asked her.
I was amused at the blush that stained her cheeks.
I nodded to her. "I will inform Draco of the plans. As soon as you are ready, come downstairs and we will go. I would prefer to have this settled by lunch time when Diagon Alley becomes crowded and difficult to move through in an invisibility cloak."
With that, I turned and exited the room so that she could proceed.
I heard some soft snores coming from the room across the hall, and realized Draco must still be asleep there. Knocking, I opened the door and went inside.
"Draco," I said in an attempt to wake him.
He awoke with a start, going for his wand. Seeing it was me, he calmed quickly.
"Severus."
"Draco, I am going to take Hermione to Diagon Alley to replace her wand. I do not know if she will return here or if she will want to return to her friends. I am leaving that decision to her, and not mentioning it until after she is armed. But before I invite her to return here, I wanted to see how you were fairing together. After all, she does have other options…"
"I… Severus, I won't lie. It's been hard to be here with her. She had nightmares last night, even through the Dreamless Sleep Draught she took."
I was shocked to hear this. She must have been even more traumatized than I had realized to dream through that particular potion.
"I went and woke her, and she thought I was my father," Draco confessed. I knew that Draco had at one point idealized his father, it was one of the reasons I had despaired of ever getting through to him. He looked so broken this morning, though, that I had do wonder what he wasn't saying.
"And?" I asked.
"I had bad dreams, too."
"Ah." I decided not to push.
"So, may I offer her refuge here, too? Or do you prefer the solitary existence?"
"Severus, I won't deny that having her here would be difficult. But at the moment, I am willing to have her here, if she feels that she would prefer to remain."
"All right, then. I will give her that option. Do you want or need anything from Diagon Alley while we are out? It will be a rare opportunity to have someone to do the shopping today."
"No, all of my wants are met."
I nodded at Draco, for the first time seeing him as a man. I was proud of my godson, although I couldn't and wouldn't tell him that.
"We'll be back soon, then."
And with that I went downstairs to await Hermione.
A/N: Please submit a review and let me know what you think...