SEPTEMBER
A month passed dreadfully slowly. The days got shorter as the weather got cooler, and the farm watched in misery.
Most days had the same routine of tending to the animals, practising spells and eating in between. Harry had become more tolerable now that he was teaching again. He gave pep talks, explaining the power behind spells, and Hermione did the physical demonstration of what he could not. Almost everyone in the house had been part of Dumbledore's Army and had seen most things first hand on the battlefield, but the refresher didn't hurt.
They practised on each other and hay bales. Andromeda was once a Healer before the war and used that skill when hexes caused decent damage. Hermione secretly liked when someone got hurt because it meant that she could learn new healing spells.
Malfoy had not come down from the attic since their last interaction. She tried to not to be bothered by it but it was hard not to notice how empty the front gates looked each evening.
She had gotten into the habit of stashing food in her room and staying in there all night long, never daring to go to the kitchen in case he was there. Though last week when she went to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, the mirror was still lightly steamed like someone had showered not long before.
It could have been Cho, it could not have. Hermione didn't bother finding the truth.
"Are you writing to anyone in the other houses?" Theo asked as they walked along the country road to do their fortnightly food shop.
He had glamoured himself to swap his brunette curls out for something in between grey and blue. It looked odd on his soft facial features and was definitely not going to let him blend in with muggles at all.
Hermione had straight black hair and green eyes. A stereotypical witch, if you will.
"Not yet. I would like to but I'm quite sure on what to say. Feels awfully braggy talking about all the freedom we get compared to the city houses, don't you think?"
"Maybe. But at least they don't have to pick up horse shit."
Hermione laughed through her nose and then at the back of her throat. "What about you? Who are you writing to?"
"In case you have forgotten, Hermione, I am a fugitive in this farm. Doubt any of your hero friends would like to be my quill pal."
"I think Professor Slughorn might be feeling a bit lonely. He has never been shy about his adoration for your father, there's something you have in common."
He lightly pinched her arm as they walked in step. She squeaked at the sharpness of his touch, trying hard to ignore the icky feeling at the pit of her stomach.
"I have not bragged about my father since first year and you know it. You are getting me mixed with another Slytherin, sweetheart."
She let out an obligated chuckle, consciously stepping away from his brushing shoulder. "Sorry. I guess you all blend together in my head."
"Really? Thought I was starting to stand out nowadays."
"Mmm. Not likely."
The remainder for the half hour walk continued in similar small talk topics. By the time they ended up at the market, Hermione was beginning to feel herself fade. Forcing herself to be happy with Theo had taken her energy out and now her battery was running low.
Needing a moment to herself, she told him to get all of the fruit on the list and ran to hide behind a corner for a few minutes. Her back bent so that her head was in between her knees. Her brain was working overtime and she just wanted it to shut up.
The sounds of people walking around the village were too loud. Time was slow and fast all at once. Everything was alive and she knew it. Everything was alive and everything was going to die.
Die. Death. Ron. Guilt. Anger. Hurt. Pain. Blood. Knife. Bellatrix. Draco.
Draco?
Hermione took slow breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth. In and out. In and out. In and out.
Okay, she told herself. Get up. Stand up. You're okay. You will be okay. Fake it if you have to.
Her legs wobbled when she stood back up, and she clutched her chest to remind herself that she could breath. That she was breathing.
Slowly but surely the sounds of people in the town lowered to a normal level. There was laughter of children running around the streets and parents yelling for them to stand still. Shop owners bargaining the price of fish. Theo calling her name.
Theo.
Hermione rushed out from behind the corner and clamped her hand over his mouth the second she found him. He looked at her like she was insane.
"Are you an idiot?" She hissed. "You cannot shout my name like that."
His eyes suddenly panicked and he apologised into the palm of her hand. She ripped it away and wiped it on her jeans.
"-orry. I didn't even think. I couldn't find you and started to worry that something had happened."
"It's fine. It's fine. Just-don't do it again. Anyone could be here and my name is not that common for people to ignore it."
Theo rubbed his nose with the back of his thumb and shook his head. "Not my best move."
Hermione gave him a once over and huffed an exhausted sigh. "You're okay, Theo. Did you at least get all of the fruit?"
"Yes. I did. Although there weren't any bananas so whoever put that on the list will have to wait until next time. I grabbed some extra oranges to make up for it."
"The bananas were my request, so it's not a big deal."
"You?" He scoffed a laugh, "I don't know if I have ever seen you eat a snack once at the house."
Something scratched at the sides of Hermione's chest. "You must not pay very good attention, then. Come on, we should get this over and done with"
Theo gave her a suspicious look but blew it off the second she started to gush over the tulips at the front of the florist. For someone who was quite intelligent, he could be very slow at times.
They made their way through the supermarket and picked up everything that was requested. In the end they had to walk back with five bags, to which Theo insisted on carrying four. When they arrived home, Hermione let Cho help unpack while she headed back to her room.
She shut her door and casted a charm over the room, cancelling out the sounds of Fred and George hollering over their new stock of shaving cream. No doubt to be used for anything other than shaving their faces.
Her bed welcomed her with warm arms, and she fell asleep before her wand made it to the nightstand. That afternoon she dreamt of the time in primary school when she auditioned for the choir. Except this time, her subconscious let her believe she actually made it onto the team.
When she woke her body felt like dead weight. Somehow, feeling worse than she had before.
The clock on the dresser said it was just after 4pm and her silencing charm had worn off by now, so she could hear muffles of people talking in the hallway.
"Is she asleep?" Someone whispered outside the door.
"I think so. Reckon we should wake her?" The second voice was most definitely Cho.
"I can hear you!" Hermione yelled. "You can come in."
With a twirl of her wand she unlocked the door. A beaming Cho poked her head in between the gap in the frame.
"Hi, we didn't wake you did we?"
"No, it's okay. I was already awake."
"Okay good, because there is someone that wants to see you."
Pushing the door a little further open, a familiar redhead poked her face into the room. Hermione's heart leapt into her throat.
"Ginny! Oh my God!"
She tumbled out of the sheets surrounding her legs, almost tripping onto the floor, and body slammed her friend into a hug. The two gripped each other tightly. So tightly that Hermione felt like it could be temporarily glueing all her broken pieces together.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, pulling away.
"I am only here for a short while. Our house was discovered last night and we're all being moved while another is being set up."
Ginny's face was slimmer than it had been at the beginning of the year. Her cheek bones were sharp, and not in an attractive way. Lips scarred from being chewed on and even her hair looked like it hadn't been cared for in a while.
Cho left them to catch up, saying she would come and get them when dinner was ready. They sat on Hermione's bed holding hands.
"What happened to the house? How do you know that they found you?" Hermione asked, suddenly rethinking about how Theo said her name in public today.
"McGonagall has ears on the other side and said that there were whispers of knowledge about a house in Winchester. They didn't know where we were exactly but she didn't want to take the risk. We're all being escorted one by one to other safe houses until the new one is secured."
"Do you know who the person on the inside is?"
"No, I wish. Though I have my suspicions that it might be Snape."
"Snape?" Hermione almost laughed, "What makes you think that?"
"There has to be a reason why Dumbledore kept him so close, right?"
"He killed Dumbledore, and I truly doubt the headmaster would have planned his own murder."
"It's Dumbledore. Has he ever done anything he's expected to do?"
Hermione had never really given a second thought to Dumbledore's death. The month after he passed went quicker than she had a chance to catch up, simply putting her trust in the Order. Ginny had a point. Perhaps she and Harry needed to rethink some things before they head out again.
Ginny stayed in her room talking about everything and nothing that had been happening at her safe house. Turns out that Seamus was the most tolerable and the two had gotten closer as they had quote 'ganged up against the oldies'.
"Oh I have something for you by the way," Ginny said, pulling something from her back pocket.
Hermione frowned, "You really didn't have to do that."
Holding her hand out anyway, a small device that looked like a standard cigarette lighter landed at the centre of her palm.
"Is this…" She started but failed to finish.
"The Deluminator, yeah. Apart from his wand it was the only thing Ron had left on him. I know it's presumptuous but I didn't know if you had anything to remember him by."
A memory of Ron playing with the device ran through her mind. They were so hungry in that tent, and he was so angry. She was pretty sure that was the night he had left them.
As helpful as it had been in bringing him back, she didn't want to remember him through this. Her fingers curled around the cold metal, nearly feeling the magic pulsating through it.
"I-uh-I still have all his clothes in my bag. From-from when we were camping."
"Oh," Ginny whispered. "Well, I'd like you to have it anyway. None of us have any sentiment towards it apart from you and Harry. He has his wand so you should have this."
Forcing her mouth into a smile, she gave her friend a hug to disguise the sadness painted across her face. Everyone saw her as the poor girl whose boyfriend died, and Hermione hated it. Somehow she had gone along with it anyway for the sake of other people's mourning.
None of them knew that she hated Ron for dying.
Later that night at dinner, Hermione watched Harry's happiness return while he sat next to Ginny. She brought something out of him that no one in the house could, and it was going to be a shame when she had to leave.
Andromeda had asked if Ginny wanted to sleep in Hermione's room, and respected her decision to stay with Harry instead.
It was one of the first nights that Hermione decided to stay up and play card games in the living room. Dean reminded her of the rules for Exploding Snap and Theo whispered in her ear how to cheat. The laughter booming off the walls was nice, soothing almost, but didn't last long.
One second Hermione was having a great time with her friends, and then in a second her head hurt, fully aware that she had exhausted her social cap.
Trying not to be that person at a party, she faked a yawn with overstretched arms, "Oh my, sorry guys I must be ready for bed."
"Oh come on, Hermione," Fred whined. "One more round, surely."
"No no, I really should be going to sleep. Thank you though, tonight has been fun."
Theo stood as she did, looking as if he had the intention to walk her to her room. Hermione cleared her throat and waved everyone goodnight, awaiting him to follow behind.
"McGonagall should keep the Weasley girl here permanently, don't you think? If Potter's this happy with her around, maybe we'd be off this farm a lot sooner than later."
"I think Harry wants to protect Ginny by keeping her away."
They took the stairs at a pace that was slower than Hermione needed.
"It was good having you around tonight. I think I need you on my team with these games more often. We'd be unstoppable me and you."
"I don't know about that. Fred and George seemed to be catching onto our tactics by the end."
"They didn't have a chance, and you know it."
She shrugged, "Like Dean said, it was probably a fluke."
"Fluke or not, we were great."
As they reached her bedroom door, Hermione had a funny feeling that this conversation was not going to end with a friendly handshake. She stood awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact with Theo in hopes that he would pick up what she was putting down.
He didn't.
Instead, as the silence grew agonising, his hand reached for her neck. Hermione found herself unsure of what to do. She didn't want him to kiss her, and yet she sensed that it would be more awkward if she told him to stop.
So out of obligation for Theo's feelings, she let him kiss her. It was cold and awkward, no spark to it at all. Hermione counted to five before trying to pull away but was stopped by the force of his hand in her hair.
Theo bit deeper into the kiss, clearly unaware of how stiff she was in his arms.
Eventually, she found the courage to push her hands against his chest and break their lips apart. An apology was at the end of her tongue, and she fought hard to keep it there.
"I don't think you should do that again," was what came out as a replacement.
Theo's face fell into a mean look. A look so immoral that Hermione was compelled to justify her discomfort.
"It is not you. I just- I think it is too soon since Ron."
He ran a hand through his curls, "Right. Yeah, right. I guess I took a leap without thinking."
"Yeah, I think so too."
To be truthful, Hermione knew Ron wasn't the real reason why she hated that kiss, but he was a convenient cop out. A lie that is easy to believe and just as easy to tell.
"Maybe when this is all over I can try that again. Properly, next time."
Hermione bit her back teeth together, "Maybe."
A few awkward beats passed before Theo bid her a goodnight that was just as tense as her spine. She laid down on her bed and screamed into the pillow.
She knew Theo was only pursuing her because he was bored and Cho would drive him mad. He was a Slytherin after all so she should have seen his nice gestures as set ups long before tonight.
Her lips were raw, and remembered that the last person to touch them was dead in the castle just a few miles down the road. In a way, Hermione was grateful that they were no longer scarred by Ron's last living moments but they still hurt nonetheless.
As she stared up at her ceiling, Hermione tried to count the beats of her heart to help her fall asleep. When that didn't work she tried reading, and when that didn't work she tested her flexibility to see if she could still do the splits from childhood ballet classes.
Eventually, when she had gotten so bored, she pulled the deluminator from her nightstand and spun it in her fingers.
She remembered one night when they were on the run that Ron had been playing with it while they sat outside of the tent. He had asked her if she knew what she wanted to do once the war was over, to which she said she didn't know yet.
Ron had said that he might want to be an auror. Hermione said he would make a great auror and asked if he thought she should be one too. He said that she didn't belong in the field and was better off being behind a desk using her brain.
For some reason she took offence to his answer and gave him the silent treatment for the rest of that night. Ron always had the habit of putting her down without a hesitation, and then made her feel stupid for overreacting.
The memory made Hermione glad that she didn't get the chance to marry him, and then very guilty for thinking so positively on someone's death.
By the silence from the house and the moon in it's midnight stance, she assumed that everyone had gone to bed and decided to go outside. Deluminator in hand, she tiptoed down the stairs in sync with Dean's snores and walked straight through the kitchen to the back paddock.
Hermione threw the deluminator as far as she could across the grass. So hard that her arm felt strained when it came back to her hip. The night sky concealed her from seeing where it landed and if she was supposed to hear it land, her heavy breaths stood in the way.
There was no doubt that if she regretted it in the morning it wouldn't be that hard to find. It was a wide paddock and only a few sheep favoured that area.
For now, it was gone.
She marched back to the house mumbling words, so much so that she almost missed the man standing on the back porch steps. Hermione caught her breath in the back of her throat, freezing the second her eyes met with Draco Malfoy's.
He was only two steps above her, and yet he felt seven feet tall.
"Nice throw," he mocked lowly.
"I've seen worse."
"I've seen better."
Even in the darkness it was hard not to recognise Malfoy's lack of sleep. His eyes were hooded, heavy with the inability to sleep within a house of people he hates. The scar that ran across his face simply added to the threat of his brewing anger.
Hermione had an unexplainable urge to trace her fingers over the closed wound. She wondered if it still hurt like hers did, or if she was losing sanity all on her own.
"What was it?" Malfoy asked, nodding his chin to where she had thrown the device
"Nothing important."
"Didn't look like it. Seems pretty important for you to be throwing it across a paddock in the middle of the night."
She bit the inside of her lower lip. "I'll tell you if you tell me why you're out here for the first time in a month."
"Been waiting for me, have you?"
"Hardly."
Malfoy put his hands in his front jean pockets and walked down to meet her at the bottom of the steps. As much as Hermione knew she was supposed to move back, she couldn't and they ended up half a foot apart. Her face was met with his hard chest, sucking in an elongated breath.
"I wanted some fresh air," he said coolly.
It scared her how easily Malfoy could lie. For all Hermione knew, he could be living here based on a lie. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion that he was.
She looked up as he looked down, "I threw an apple."
He growled, unsatisfied with her answer. From this angle Hermione could see that he hadn't shaved in a few days, but he still smelt like that honey body wash. Perhaps he had rushed his shower last time.
"You didn't tell anyone I was here." The way that he said it was more of a statement than a question. As if he was surprised by the fact that she had kept his secret.
"You asked me not to."
He ran his tongue over his teeth and squinted, "I do not care for your loyalty, Granger."
"I never said that you had it. Lying may be your first language, but I find value in staying true to my word. You might want to try it some time."
With her final words she bumped his shoulder and pushed past to head back inside, but he grabbed her arm before she could reach the last step.
"Let me go," she tried to pull herself free but his grip was too strong.
In the moonlight Malfoy's dark mark was on full display. It was not really the same as it used to be. His entire forearm looked as if it had been brutally burnt, where blisters had scarred and his pale skin was left a crimson red. Black specks were the lasting evidence of Voldemort's signature skull.
Malfoy noticed her staring at it and loosened his hold on her to hide it behind his back.
As a reflex alone, Hermione wrapped one hand around his elbow and the other around his wrist to get a closer look. It looked unbearably painful.
"What are you-" he spat.
"Stop moving!" She barked back. "Did you do this to yourself?"
"That is none of your bus-"
"Are you a complete imbecile? You haven't even tried to heal this with magic, have you? Your skin is far too blistered now for you to ever be able to restore it!"
Malfoy pulled free from her hands and wiped his arm onto his shirt like he was disgusted in her touch. Hermione frowned at the motion, confused as to why it was okay for him to touch her but not the other way round.
"I am well aware of the state of my own health," he said viciously.
"So you find joy in pain do you?"
If you were paying enough attention you could see the curve of his lip curl for half a second and then return to its original scowling nature, "Oh, you really are a wee lamb. Aren't you?"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you are far too innocent for your own good, Granger. If you're not careful someone might take advantage of that. Use it against you."
"Don't pretend like you care about my well being."
There was a glimmer within his silver eyes that were a close resemblance to the stars above their heads. It was probably the only thing that would reassure her that he wasn't a ghost, seeing as everything else about his stature looked deathly. Although, his newly broadened arms did do him some justice.
"Who died?"
She winced, "What?"
"Who died, Granger? You and Potter's disciples are training again so something had to have happened."
"How do you know that we're training?"
"I may be trapped in an attic but I was granted a window."
Hermione hesitated in telling him the answer, questioning whether or not he deserved to know. She tried to read his curious expression, translating if he truly cared, but he gave little away.
"Neville," she caved.
Whoever's name Malfoy was expecting her to say, it did not seem like he was waiting for that. She could see him thickly swallow and twist his jaw.
"I see," he drawled, lifting his chin and looking down at her through his nose. "Well, with Longbottom and Weasley out of the way, the end to this war is looking far brighter than I thought."
Hermione felt her entire face heat, "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," he stepped forward so that they stood a fingernails width away from each other. "Good riddance."
She flicked between looking at his left eye to his right, grinding her teeth together. He was nowhere near as suffocated as she was in guilt.
With an immediate surge of anger, Hermione shoved him back by the corner of his shoulders. Once, twice, three times, and then on the fourth strike he fell onto the grass. She fell to her knees and pressed her arm into his throat, hoping he would choke under her weight.
He grinned up at her like he had been waiting for her to pounce. Waiting the entire conversation, the entire month, the entire time they had been living under the same roof. He had needed a fight. He'd been provoking her for one.
And if anyone knew Hermione Granger, they knew that she was nothing but a people pleaser.
She took her wand out of her pyjama pocket and dug the tip of it under his chin. Eyes burning to make him suffer.
"You really are nothing but a failure of a Death Eater, aren't you?" She said, straddling his torso so he couldn't move. "A fence sitter who can't even tell the difference between right and wrong."
Malfoy licked his lips in anticipation for her damage, "Do it, Granger. Kill me and I will always be with you."
Hermione puffed out shuddered breaths. Ears static with white hot rage.
"Oh please," he begged, his voice rough through the pressure of her arm. "Please let me be the first person you kill. It would be my life's greatest honour, striping you from your purity."
Malfoy was playing her like a fiddle. By what Hermione had seen, he was the type of man that needed punishment in order to feel better about himself. Daddy issues so far rooted that they corrupted his way of life.
He needed this. He needed her to hurt him, more than she needed to hurt him.
Hermione released her arm from his throat and slapped his face before standing to her feet. Malfoy pushed his tongue against his cheek and sucked in the sting of her palm, slamming the back of his head against the grass.
"Neville's death deserves more than to be used for your sick coping strategies," she said with his body still lying between her feet. "Get over yourself, Draco. If you feel guilty about being nothing but a bully to a man that had ten fold the amount of guts as you, then feel guilty. But don't use me to do so."
His smirk dropped and turned sour around the time she used his first name. She knew that he wanted her to see him as an enemy, as the person that she would avoid in the school halls and should fear in this war. But Hermione refused to give him that satisfaction.
She stepped over his chest and walked to the house. Except she couldn't even make it to the back door before Malfoy was calling out her name again.
"Granger!" He groaned, pulling himself to his feet. "We're not finished."
Hermione spun on the spot, unbrushed hair slapping her cheeks with the momentum, "What else could you possibly have to say right now?"
"You should put a silencing charm on your room. It's below mine and if I hear your insufferable sleep talk one more time, I may just slice that knife through your throat to make it stop."
She had a suspicion he was only saying this for the sake of conversation. Loneliness creeped up on him more than he realised.
"Cast your own silencing charm. You own a wand do you not?"
Malfoy's hand twitched at his side. He mimicked the way she was squinting him.
"Yes. Though, I hate wasting my magic on mudbloods. Especially ones that nap for eighteen hours a day and don't realise just how nauseating their sleeping habits are."
"That mindset hasn't stopped you before, and I do not sleep for that many hours, thank you very much."
"You do. It's how long I have to block my ears."
She blew out a breath, shaking her head. "You know, ridding yourself of a dark mark made me think that maybe your opinion on muggle borns had changed."
"Do not flatter yourself, Granger."
Hermione couldn't help but snicker, "Okay, so tell me the real reason why you burnt yourself. Finally felt ashamed of your actions did you?"
"Why would I tell you the reason behind why I do anything?"
"Because you have no one else."
Malfoy turned around to face the moon, shaking his head the same way she did as he did a full circle to face her again. He pinched his bottom lip and then charged right at her with a pointed finger. Hermione's knees buckled underneath her and she stumbled into the wall.
"You don't know shit!" He growled. "You're a fucking know-it-all but you don't know shit, Granger."
Hermione's back was pressed up against the wood slates, her chest rising and falling in a familiar way that she knew was leading to something bad.
It was the way that Malfoy's ears turned a blushing shade of red that welcomed the dark cloud over her mind. She begged herself to stop. There was no way that she was willing to have a panic attack in front of him. He would see her as weak and she swore she would be anything but.
His forefinger was pressing into her collar bone and she could almost taste the peppermint toothpaste in his mouth. Sweat started to break out at the peak of her hairline. He was too close. He would be able to see her crumble.
She couldn't tell if it was her body that was shaking or Malfoy's hand, but by the speed in which he ripped it away from her, it must have been him.
Hermione tried to talk except the words got stuck in her throat. Malfoy looked at her like she was crazy. Eyes widened as he scanned her up and down.
"What is wrong with-"
"I-I have to," she couldn't think, she couldn't remember where she was. "I-uh-"
Nothing was making sense in her brain. This was one of the worst attacks she had ever had. She couldn't even remember who was standing in front of her or what their name was.
"I don't remember. I can't remember." Her lungs felt like they were going to explode.
"Granger?"
Granger. Her name was Hermione Granger. The only person who called her by the surname was Draco Malfoy. That's right, she was arguing with Malfoy.
His face was screwed up in confusion, having no clue what to do.
Hermione sunk to the floor, knees pressed to her chest, trying to recall how to breathe. The sounds of the farm's nightlife were fuzzy in her ears and her eyes were blurring.
Malfoy's legs crouched in front of her. He tried to read what was going on and seemed to be struggling to understand just as much as she was. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't understand what he was saying.
He hesitated in bringing his hand up and then let it fall on her upper arm. Squeezing it tight. Hermione lent into the feeling. It was so strong.
"... kill you?" Malfoy's voice slowly came back into focus.
"What?"
"I said, all that tough talk back there and a finger to your chest is what you let kill you?"
Gulping away the remainder of her breakdown, Hermione actually laughed at his remark. It was shaky, but a laugh nonetheless. At the same time they both realised that he was still clutching her arm. One pulled away while the other scampered to their feet.
Hermione's skin felt hot and she knew that she hadn't quite recovered. Malfoy cleared his throat and looked to the ground.
Without another word spoken between them, Hermione went back inside. Fast enough so that he couldn't call her back, but not so fast that it looked like she was running away. Even though she was most definitely running away.
She didn't care if the stairs creaked when she jumped every second one to get to her room. Teddy was fussing down the hall, but she didn't want to help. She just needed to get into bed.
Double locking her door, Hermione darted to the window to see if Malfoy was still outside. The porch light was still on and if she narrowed her eyes close enough, she could make out his shadow still standing where she left him.
Her forehead was cold against the glass, it helped cool the fire running through her veins.
Malfoy's shadow moved and his actual body came into view as he walked down the steps. His head turned to look up at her window.
Hermione jolted back, hopeful she was fast enough that he didn't see her.
Her heart hadn't stopped pounding in her chest since the moment he pressed his finger to her chest. She hoped that she did not look as ridiculous as she had felt when he watched her collapse. Maybe, by chance, he related to it a bit and wouldn't make fun of her.
Just maybe.
