Hermione was flat on her back before she knew what happened.
"Oof" She groaned, clutching the right side of her face as it erupted in pain. She laid there in shock, eyes squeezed shut, cradling her jaw and trying to breathe.
"Get up!" Bane spoke, his amplified voice cool and detached as he stood over her.
"Just give me a minute." She couldn't catch her breath. Her whole body trembled.
"At least open your eyes."
She managed that. Caramel eyes opened, slowly, and squinted through her damp eye lashes.
Her formidable cellmate towered over her; his bare chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes conveyed his disappointment.
He held up his left hand, still clenched in a powerful fist.
"We should have begun your training the first week." He sounded like he was admonishing himself more than her.
He attacked her with no warning. Just how it would happen in a real-life situation. He wanted her to be ready, and that meant seeing how she would react with no time to prepare.
She didn't agree with everything he said, but knew that for him to survive all these years, she needed to take in all he could teach.
Hermione groaned and rolled over to push herself off the dirty floor. Bane grabbed her roughly by her ponytail and wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her to her feet.
"What was the first lesson, Hermione?" He gritted out as she struggled. She tried to pry his massive arm away.
"Never turn your back on the enemy." She wheezed out.
"So why did you?" He sounded more disappointed than angry.
Hermione scratched at his arm, feeling it tighten around her throat each time.
"I can't breathe, Bane!" She croaked.
"You are lucky I didn't break your spine." He gave her whole body a shake, lifting a few inches off the ground. "I have you in a rather precarious position. What are you going to do about it?"
She tried to kick him. He tutted and lifted her higher.
Her eyes darted around the cell, looking for inspiration.
His raspy breathing did little to settle her nerves.
"Wait, please." She panted.
"Do you think the others would wait? Do you think Abraham and his men would let you catch your breath?" She stopped struggling, listening to his words. "You wanted to learn how to protect yourself. If this was a real fight, you would have less than a second to react. So, I will ask again. What are you going to-"
Hermione threw her right arm backwards, elbowing Bane in the ribs. He loosened his grip a fraction and she sucked in a deep breath. "Good. Now follow through." He encouraged. "Use your left arm to counterbalance."
She did it again as she hit him with all her strength, her blow forcing air out of her lungs. "Better." He lowered her to the floor as a reward. "What else?" She needed no prompting when she stomped her foot down, driving her heels into his toes. She felt very good about herself when he hissed slightly.
She groaned when he, again, lifted her off the ground, restricting her air once more. "Good, but in the future, always aim for the arch. What else?"
Her face turned red from panting. She couldn't catch her breath.
She was trapped, she couldn't fight him off.
She kicked wildly, trying to break free.
"Focus, Hermione. You are burning energy. Remember what I taught you." He pressed.
But she couldn't think straight. Her lungs were struggling for breath and panic replaced every sensible thought in her head.
He must have noticed her distress. He loosened his grip slightly.
"Stay calm." He spoke evenly. "Aim for the joints. Any part that would impair your attacker. The nose, the eyes, the throat. Try to throw your head back to break my nose." He ordered.
"I'll crack my head on your bloody mask." She huffed in frustration.
"Try, Hermione." He implored her.
She imagined doing it, imagined her head cutting itself on the valves of his mask.
"No. I won't do it." She sighed. "Can we stop now?" She let herself go limp in his arms.
Bane sighed, his grip on her neck relaxing as he lowered her to the floor.
"I'm sorry." She sighed, taking deep breaths, now taking a seat on his cot.
He removed the sheets they hung up for privacy. He didn't want the others to know that he was training her. Said it would make her a greater target.
"I know this is hard. But it will be for your benefit in the long run."
"I know. I've just never had a problem protecting myself before. It was easier when I had my wa-"
She stopped herself talking at her almost-slipup. Bane already had his suspicions that there was more to her than just a poor woman that wronged the War Lord.
She did what she could to dissuade his presumptions. It was a stroke of luck that he wasn't there when she arrived in the prison.
He gave her curious looks every now and then, but Hermione assumed it was because he still wasn't used to living with her.
"When I wasn't in prison. I'm still not used to this. I just wish I could get my life back." She sighed.
He didn't respond.
Bane gave her an even look and smoothly moved to his stack of clothes. He began folding and sorting.
That was odd, she usually did that for him. It was one of the few ways she tried to be useful.
There wasn't much to do when confined to a cell.
Something was bothering him.
"Are you okay?" She could see the tight line in his spine contract as she spoke.
"Of course."
"You seem tense." She stood and made her way over to him.
"I am fine."
She was getting better at reading his body language since she couldn't read his facial expressions. She could tell there was something wrong. She could feel it in her gut.
Was it something she said?
Hermione quickly recalled what had just happened.
He was training her, and she gave up. But that wasn't unusual. For the last few days, she's failed to break free from his grip. She always tapped out.
She was careful not to slip up about her magic.
Even when she was about to lament the loss of her wand, she saved it when she-
Oh Merlin.
She longed for her old life away from here when this life was all he knew.
How could she be that inconsiderate?
"Bane?"
He didn't turn around.
She needed to clear the air. She didn't want to have any friction between them. They were living together after all.
"I didn't mean to complain about my life in this prison. That was insensitive of me. I can't imagine what you've endured all these years." She walked closer to him. "I am sorry."
Bane took a deep breath before he answered.
"What I have endured has made me into the weapon you see. I am not weak for surviving through riots, death matches and plagues. I am the sum of all parts of the pit."
"And yet you protected me from the other prisoners." She bravely placed her hand on his arm. "You could have stood by and watched, but you didn't. I have a feeling you don't enjoy being thanked, but please indulge me."
He finally looked towards her.
"Thank you for helping me, and for saving my life."
He tensed when she placed her hand on his arm. She kept it there to convey her heartfelt thanks. He looked down at her touch.
She couldn't read him.
"It may seem hard to comprehend, but I do not condone the proclivities of some of the other prisoners. They rape to feed their power. I am protecting you because you cannot defend yourself. When the day comes that you can, our association will end."
He stepped away from her touch. She grew uneasy at his words.
Part of her was glad at the idea that she could one day survive down here on her own. Another part of her was…apprehensive.
In the short weeks of her association with Bane, she was still slightly afraid of him, but she had grown fond of him too. He was intelligent and provided interesting conversation about an array of topics.
He also gave her some tips about living in a prison.
Her mounds of books would prevent her mind from deteriorating, which was important for survival. He implored her to ration the water and in what order to eat their rations. He spent another night showing her how to unravel the canvas sacks into a long stretch of string. He knew how to knit with his hands. He must have figured it out by himself.
She showed him how to knit little hats. When he questioned how she procured such a skill, she just shrugged and claimed that she made them for friends.
He used the string to fashion into a large ball of twine that he used for emergencies, like fixing his cabinets, books and the supports for his cot.
Over the time she had spent in the desolate prison, she actually enjoyed living with him.
She felt… safe around him.
Hermione needed to test the waters.
"What if I don't want to leave this cell?"
He started before turning to give her another appraising look.
"What if I don't want you to stay?" He replied evenly.
Her heart stopped for a second at his response.
"'What if' is a question that makes people go insane." She lamented.
"Then we are at an impasse."
Her heart still thudded in her chest. The idea of being kicked out of the little oasis was something she didn't wish to experience.
An alarm sounded. Hermione had heard it before, but it always made her jump.
Bane simply sighed.
"I must go." He left their cell and began to lock the door from the outside.
She walked over to him.
"Last time you were gone for two days." She spoke against the bars.
"You were still in one piece when I returned."
"That's because you lock me in here." She smiled gently.
"You are not ready to leave the cell." He surveyed her face. Like he was studying her. "Turn your head." His hand went to her jaw. She tried to move away, but his hand grabbed her through the bars. "That will leave a bruise." He observed.
"I did tell you not to hold back." She tried to reassure him. Her jaw felt swollen.
Bane scoffed bitterly. "If I wasn't holding back, you would have a broken neck. I didn't hit you as hard as I would have, had this been a real fight." His hand gave her cheek a small, tentative, caress before it left her face.
They both stood staring at each other through the bars.
"I'll put something on it when you're gone."
F
"Why didn't you cover your face from the beginning?" He sounded frustrated. "Protect it with your fists and your chest with your arms." He moved her arms into the stance he showed her.
She nodded; it was for the best that she goes over what he had taught her.
"Practice and be ready when I come back."
He turned to leave again.
"You never told me where you go." She called after him.
He didn't reply. He didn't even look back at her.
She didn't feel reassured.
His retreating figure brought about another uneasy feeling.
What if this was the last time she saw him?
With a sigh she returned to her books.
She was worried about him. It seemed stupid to be concerned about a tough man like Bane. But while observing him the past three weeks, she noticed the difference in the stoic man after his visits.
He was normally a man in control, but after his return, the smallest thing could set him off.
Last week, he caught an older inmate trying to angle a mirror to see into their cell. It was obvious the man was hoping to get a look in at Hermione. Normally, Bane would never dare attack the older prisoners. They were left alone due to their age and kept to themselves for the most part. But Bane, so angry at the man's brazen voyeurism, entered his cell and beat him to a pulp.
Hermione had been internally horrified, but didn't openly question his actions. Just made sure to stay out of his way. She just left out a flannel and water for him to clean his wounds.
She knew, from the look he gave her on his return, that he wasn't going to speak about what had happened.
But it wasn't just his mood and demeanour that changed.
His eyes were green after he returned. They reverted back to their normal colour after a few days.
She was desperate to know why. But, as she thought back to the man, she wasn't sure she'd ever get a straight answer from him.
The chanting inmates drew her eyes towards the impossible ascent.
Hermione watched as another man made the climb. She knew he would fail like all the others.
Her hopes of escaping were growing smaller with each failed attempt.
As the desolate scream of despair echoed, a part of her was curious if Bane ever attempted the climb.
He was built like a hippogriff, surely, he would have the ability to make it out.
He could walk in the sun that never reached the base of the pit. He could breathe in fresh air and feel the wind on his skin.
The thought made her smile for a second. The idea that he could escape this life.
But then she would be alone.
Bane said that she would be on her own when she was able to defend herself. But, if Hermione really thought about it, she didn't want to leave him.
She felt… safe around him.
Her mind went through all the reasonings of why she felt like this.
Maybe this was the beginning of Stockholm Syndrome. He did technically lock her in a cell and wouldn't tell her the combination to get out.
But at least she knew he'd never touch her like the other prisoners.
Except earlier, he had a look in his eyes when she touched his arm. It was… almost confused.
And when he touched her cheek as he checked her bruise.
Like he didn't know how to react to her.
Hermione laid back with a frustrated sigh.
He was consuming her thoughts.
She missed him already.
Xxx
He was late.
Hermione paced the length of their cell. Her stomach was cramping. Maybe her anxieties were getting worse.
Four days.
He'd been gone longer than usual.
What if something happened to him?
He had locked her in the cell. She had enough water to last a few more days but they had missed the food delivery. Their bags had been claimed after another fight between two men.
Hermione watched on helplessly as Abraham and his crew ate what should have been Bane's food.
He even had the gall to blow her a kiss.
She replaced the hanging sheet so she could have her privacy.
She used her alone time to try and conjure up a Patronus.
But it wasn't working.
She couldn't even produce mist.
She blinked back the tears that gathered in her eyes.
Her anxieties were out of control.
What if he didn't come back? What if-
Hermione remembered the phrase she had tossed Bane's way. 'What if is a question that makes people go insane.'
She didn't want to go insane. She needed to take a few deep breaths to calm down.
She opened her eyes with a deep breath.
Bane had survived this long without her fussing. She needed to try and think positively.
Hope was the one thing each inmate held on to in the pit.
The alarm to disperse sounded.
Hermione raced to undo the privacy screens.
She could see Bane now, entering the ground level. He looked even larger today.
What happened behind those doors?
The prisoners stayed out of his way. Some retreating to their cells for safety.
Hermione didn't want him to know she'd been worried. She retreated to her sleeping area and began reading his astronomy textbook.
She fought the urge to smile in relief when he opened their cell.
She tried to pretend that this wasn't a big deal.
But the cramp in her stomach lessened with his presence.
He didn't greet her. He simply moved to his cot and laid down with a sigh.
This was odd. He never rested after his…whatever he did. He had dirt on his clothes and bruising on his arms.
What happened to him?
Mechanical snores began emitting from his mask.
Hermione was glad to see him resting. Too often, he went without sleep. Claiming that it left him vulnerable. He always slept for three or four hour intervals.
Hermione felt herself relax for the first time in four days.
She closed her eyes, allowing the noise of her cellmate's mask to lull her to sleep.
Xxx
She was shaking.
It felt like she was being attacked by the Whomping Willow.
"Hermione! Wake up!" A voice called.
"Wha- what?" She blinked awake. Bane was jolting her. His eyes were wild and so very green.
"What's wrong, Bane?"
"Who attacked you?" He rasped.
She frowned at his question.
"No one. What are you talking about?"
"You are injured." He was pulling at her clothes.
"Bane!" She tried to push him back, but he was like a statue.
"You are covered in blood. Who did this!" He yelled.
"What?" She panicked and looked down at her body.
On no.
She had completely lost track of time down here.
"Oh Circe." She moaned. Her period had completely slipped her mind. "Can you pass me my bag, please?" She gestured to her bundle of items.
"You need medical attention, Hermione." He was trying to see her non-existent injury.
"Bane, I'm fine. It's just my time of the month."
He stopped fussing at that.
"What do you mean?"
She raised a brow at him. He can't be serious, can he?
But his face only showed confusion.
"My period." Still no sign of understanding. "It's a woman thing. I bleed every month to show I'm not pregnant."
She pushed him back and he followed her over to her bag where, thankfully, she had an emergency stash in her bag.
"I wear these to help." She showed him the pads.
"You are not injured?" His eyes were trained on her. He was on high alert.
"I'm fine. It's completely natural. I may become irritated and lethargic, but I'll be back to normal in a few days." She turned him around so she could change her ruined clothes. She would need to do the washing soon. And go for a shower.
xxx
He obeyed her and waited until she moved in front of him.
She had a curious look on her face.
"What did you think had happened?"
His fists clenched.
"I thought one of the other inmates had entered our cell or that I-" He stopped himself at those words. He didn't want to frighten her.
He sometimes couldn't remember what happened after the injections. They affected his memory. A side effect of the Venom.
In the past, he had woken up with bloody fists and two dead inmates in front of him.
Other times the target of his anger had been himself.
When he saw her bloody clothes, he thought…
He was glad that Hermione was safe.
He looked down at her worried face, she almost always internally fretted over him when he returned from the lab. He could see it in her eyes.
The caring maternal eyes that had no place in a hell like this.
She didn't know why he left. He didn't want her to know why he wore the mask.
"How are you feeling?" She asked him.
"I am fine." He moved to his cot and sat down.
"Are you sure?" At his annoyed stare, she held up her hands in defence. "In that case, can we go to the showers soon? I need to wash…" She just gestured to her lower body.
He regained his breathing and looked down at the grime that built up over his skin.
"Yes, I could use one too." He grabbed his items and opened the door for them. She hadn't stepped out in four days.
It seemed that the other prisoners knew what Hermione leaving their cell meant.
As it wasn't their usual time, there were other inmates indulging in the warm water.
Hermione recoiled at the sight of a naked Abraham. She subconsciously pressed herself against his side.
"Boss, Bane is here." Another showering man whispered in Spanish.
"Is the little whore with him?" He called out.
"Yes, boss."
"Surprised she can still walk." Abraham laughed. He was taking his time finishing his shower.
"I prefer my women to remain alive. They're more satisfying that way." Bane announced. He spoke in Spanish so as not to spook Hermione.
"Ah amigo, you and I are not so different. Tell me, is she as tight as that mask is on your face?" He turned and gave Hermione a sultry look. She cringed at him. "Like what you see, little girl?" He asked her in English. Bane clenched his fists as he noticed that the man was growing erect.
"It's not like there's much to see." She snarked.
Bane subconsciously moved his arm around her.
The other prisoners giggled at her retort, but stopped at Abraham's furious look.
"It wouldn't surprise me if you were blind, puta. It's probably the only reason you are fucking Bane." He wrapped his dirty towel around his hips.
"Some things in life are mysteries, Abraham. For example, how long do you expect to hide behind your men before you gain the courage to fight me yourself?" Bane guided Hermione to the final shower.
"I do not need to prove myself to you." He snarked.
"Then run along." Bane raised a brow at him.
"Bastard." The man whispered as he ambled away with his crew following.
"By the time I turn around. I expect you all to be holed up in your cells. If I am disappointed, you will no longer have any means of self-gratification." Bane saw a few confused stares before another man moved his hands protectively in front of his crotch.
Bane turned to face the cubby hole and heard the pitter patter of feet absconding away.
He heard Hermione chuckle quietly.
Bane gave her a questioning look as he undressed.
"I used to know this woman who would use similar threats with her sons. When she yelled, they either came running or ran away in fear."
"She sounds like a formidable woman." He found his eyes travelling over Hermione's body again.
When his eyes travelled to her thighs, he had flashbacks to Talia's mother and the horrors she suffered before she died.
At least he saved Talia from this hell.
He had hoped that one day, the man Melisande spoke about to her daughter would return and remove this pit from the face of the earth.
But that day never came. He hoped that wherever she was, she had found peace.
"Bane?" His eyes were brought back to his new charge. Except she wasn't a little girl. She was a woman.
A woman who was standing very close to his naked body.
"Are you okay?" She went to stand under the spray. He watched the water travel down her back and lengthen her curly hair.
"I am fine. How did you fare on your own?" He watched the water run red with her blood. He was glad to see it washed away.
"It was manageable. But I feel better now that you're back." She looked over her shoulder. When she met his eyes, an uneasy look settles over her face.
"What's wrong?" His instincts kicked in. He looked behind him to see if Abraham or the others tried to get a closer look at Hermione.
"N-nothing. Are you not going to shower?" She asked.
His mind felt heavy, and he had an unfamiliar feeling in his lower stomach.
"Yes." He stepped into the next shower and immediately set about scrubbing his skin under the warm water.
He felt…dirty.
He didn't register her eyes drifting over him until he saw something waving in his face.
"Use this. You're scratching your arms." He looked at the flannel she gave and then to his arms. Sure enough, his arms were covered in raised abrasions.
"Thank you." He used the cloth to clean his body.
Out of his peripheral vision he saw Hermione leave her shower and wrap the towel around her body.
That feeling returned to his lower body when he watched her dry herself.
He had felt it before. During the first symptoms of puberty.
When Melisande arrived in the prison.
Before her, the only women he had seen were the sketchy memories of his mother and those drawings in his books. And he knew Melisande was married and loved her husband dearly, so she would never take another man. She also had her hands full with little Talia.
She spent her life protecting her daughter.
Bane and the prison's doctor were the only ones allowed into their cell.
The day the doctor forgot to lock their cell was a day that would forever haunt Bane.
That's why Bane was extra cautious when locking Hermione in when he had to leave.
He didn't know what he would do if something happened to her when he was gone. That thought was enough to stop his body's natural response to Hermione.
He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and turned off the shower.
Hermione was already dressed and waiting for him. He dried himself and dressed quickly.
"I'm feeling so much better after that." She ran her fingers through her damp hair.
"I am glad. Let's get you back in the cell." His hand automatically went to the small of her back. Hermione didn't flinch at his touch. She knew it was for show.
The others watched on in envy when she stuck close to his body. Her body wash and shampoo were scented and while he could not enjoy the smell, the other prisoners sniffed the air where she had just been in sweet agony.
Bane only relaxed when the lock was in place.
"I've been practicing while you were away." She bounced on her heels.
"Is that so?" He raised a brow at her eagerness.
"Yes, I even planned a whole series of counterattacks to make up for my earlier failures."
Her enthusiasm was almost adorable.
"Show me your defensive stance."
She raised her fists to chin level and kept her elbows close to her chest.
"Good." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Bend your knees slightly. Keep your centre of gravity low. It will make you sturdier. Harder to knock off balance."
"Okay." She readjusted her stance. "Like that?"
"Yes." He moved back in front of her. "Hermione, if you ever find yourself in a… vulnerable position again, do what you must to survive."
She nodded but didn't fully comprehend his words.
"If someone tries to hurt you, you must hurt them back. Even if it means they can't hurt anyone ever again."
Understanding crossed her face.
"You mean… killing someone?"
"The rules of the pit are the same as in the natural world. The survival of the fittest. Kill or be killed."
A sad look crossed her face.
"I…don't want to kill anyone."
"You may not have a choice."
"There's always a choice, Bane." She whispered.
The silence between them was palpable.
Bane could see the hesitation in her eyes. He saw it in some of the younger prisoners. The ones who were sent down for the crimes of stealing and other non-violent offences.
But they too quickly learned that it was kill or be killed.
He only hoped that Hermione would make the right choice.
"I might just go to sleep. We need to get up early for the food delivery."
She went to lie down on her sheets. Having removed her stained ones to clean tomorrow.
"Who received our supplies?" Bane went to lie down, glad to finally relax again. He wouldn't sleep though. He hoped that Hermione had saved him something to eat.
"The others had a fight. One bag went to Abraham's crew and the other went to an older man. I think he stole it when they were fighting." She yawned and turned over.
"That would be Tomas. He is a sly fellow." Bane thought of the older prisoner. Well past his prime to attempt the climb. He just focused on surviving for now.
"There's some dried meat and nuts left over from the last delivery."
"Thank you, my dear." He returned to the thriller Hermione leant him. He looked over and saw his astronomy textbook beside her head.
He smiled under his mask.
He waited until he heard the steady sounds of her breathing before hanging up the privacy sheets.
With a deep breath, he removed his mask.
He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the grime that had built up over the past four days.
He needed to be quick.
Water was swiftly splashed on his face.
He drank great draughts of water and swallowed the extra pain medication stuffed into his pocket.
Once the pill was down, he waited for its effects to take over his body.
He ate the meagre meal. It wasn't the most fulfilling, but it was better than nothing.
Next was the final task.
He needed the straight razor he kept hidden.
In the cabinet was his oldest and, once, his only friend.
Osito.
The little bear that kept him company when he was a small child. The friend that he could talk to when his mother passed.
When he was truly alone.
The friend, that even with his missing ear and drooping eye, was perfect in Bane's eyes.
Hermione had no idea that when he unravelled the canvas bags that held their food, he was using the string to mend his friend.
He looked over Osito and removed the secret hidden in his back.
The razor kept him safe when he was young, before he honed his strength.
He killed his first man when he was eight with it.
It was purely for self-defence, but it earned him a reputation quick enough. And down in the pit, word spreads fast.
He didn't try to hide his fierce nature, and soon, when his age, size and strength were that of a man, he ran this prison.
He reminisced as he shaved the stubble that had grown under the mask. His head was shaved too.
It made things easier.
He was so used to the routine that he didn't need the mirror.
Not that he wanted to look in the mirror anyway.
The remnants of the pain he endured to save Talia and the disastrous attempts by the resident prison doctor.
But his rudimentary tools and no pain medication did little to mitigate the ordeal.
The burn began to climb up his spine. A signal that the medication was wearing off.
He washed his face and drank the remaining water and then replaced the mask.
Once the click of the clasps was back in place did the pain revert back to a manageable dullness.
The pain wasn't gone, but it was bearable.
A moan escaped his cellmate.
She twisted and turned in her bedding.
He watched her face contort into a pinch.
He could manage his own pain, but for a reason he couldn't pinpoint, he didn't want to see her in distress.
"Hermione." He spoke softly.
She jolted awake.
"Bane?" She rasped, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"You were restless. Are you in pain?"
"It's my period." She groaned. "I usually have a hot water bottle in bed to ease the cramps." She pressed a hand to her lower abdomen.
He had no idea what a hot water bottle was, but could understand the need.
"If I could help, I would." He placed a hand on her arm, like she had after their training session.
"Circe, you're roasting." She grabbed his hand in her smaller one.
"I always run hot after I… return."
"If only you could…never mind. It's a ridiculous idea." She let go of his hand.
He watched her cheeks blush. What was she thinking?
"What were you going to say?" He was curious at her reaction.
"Well…if you could keep your hand against my stomach while I slept. It would be a great help." She wanted him to hold her as she slept.
He didn't even blink at her musings, his mind was already conjuring up the image of Hermione lying next to him.
He didn't hate the idea.
"Forget I said anything." She tried to laugh it off.
"If you think it would help, I have no objection."
She licked her lips. He found his eyes drifting down to them for a second.
"Are you sure?" She was expecting him to refuse. He could see it.
He nodded. He probably needed this more than she did.
The chance to be…held again.
"Okay." She pulled back the sheets and made room for him.
He preferred his cot, but Hermione had layers of blankets, old carpets and sheets that made a pseudo mattress.
He hesitated before climbing in beside her.
She spun around so she was facing away from him.
When he pulled her against his body, she gave a shudder.
"You're like a furnace." Her hips nestled against his.
"I apologise. I cannot control it." He thought she was complaining and went to pull away.
"It's a welcome change. It gets cold down here." She turned and caught his eye.
Her hair was placed in a ponytail, so it didn't cover his face. He was glad for that.
She directed his hand under her shirt.
His callused hand hesitated as she laid her hand over his.
She sighed in contentment.
"That feels wonderful."
She relaxed against him.
He caressed the soft skin of her stomach. During the weeks in his company, she had regained some of the weight she had lost.
It was reassuring that she was no longer wasting away.
Her breath settled into an even pattern and, he too, found his mind resting.
The warm body of another human was a comfort he wasn't sure he ever experienced.
But now, Hermione was so relaxed in his presence that she was comfortable enough to sleep right next to him.
When he first met the young woman, she looked like she would never leave her cell.
And when she was attacked by the other inmates, he was sure she wouldn't survive long. Not without help.
His 'rescue' had scarred her at first. Being carried into a cell over his hulking shoulder wasn't ideal.
But now, was this a sign that she was no longer afraid of him?
He found that for the first time in many years, he was happy to feel the trust of another.
First with little Talia, and now with Hermione.
His eyes grew heavy. The call of sleep he wanted to ignore in favour of keeping vigilant was growing.
He brought her body closer to his own and allowed himself the rest he didn't know if he deserved.
