Teddy wasn't sleeping very well the second night of his stay in Hermione's bedroom. Despite being given the proper dosage of muggle medicine, his teeth were still causing him havoc, resulting in two frozen carrots being gnawed right through.

Hermione had been pacing her room, rocking him in her arms for over an hour. Everyone had gone to bed early after a long day of excessive chore work, leaving her with a restless baby and an unhelpful wizard idly watching her struggle.

Malfoy was sat propped up on her bed with his back against the headboard and feet on the mattress. His legs were crossed at the ankle and he was chewing something crunchy.

"Do you mind?" Hermione lashed. "He won't sleep if you insist on eating the world's loudest crisps."

He rolled his eyes, "Calm down, Granger. Doubt the boy can hear anything over that persistent shushing you keep doing. He's probably crying over that, not his bloody back teeth."

"Oh, and you would know, would you?"

"No less than you do."

On his side, Teddy huffed into Hermione's chest. He'd been trying to bite her shirt all night and was only left unsatisfied when the cotton didn't help ease his pain. She flipped him over to face outward to stop him from trying again.

"You said you gave him medicine, did you not?" Malfoy asked, followed by a bite of a sandwich he had made before coming to her room.

"Yes. Theo and I went to the store this afternoon to get some. I may need to give him some more, it doesn't appear to be working."

"Don't overdose the kid."

She didn't even bother to reply to that one. Her hand patted Teddy's nappied bottom and swung him to and fro. He didn't like the quick motion so she slowed back down to just a gentle rock.

Licking his fingers, Malfoy uncrossed his legs. "You and Theo must get along if you drink wine and grocery shop with him. Care to make a confession to me, Granger?"

Hermione scoffed and turned to look out the window. There was no way in hell that she was going to tell Malfoy about her desperate snogging session with Theo. She was far too embarrassed to think about it herself let alone hear his opinions on it.

It's not like she kissed him because she fancied him. The only reason why she did it was to cover up Malfoy's anger issues. What the blond didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

"Theo is a manipulative brute. He likes to pretend to be interested in my company for the sake of curing his boredom."

"Don't lie to yourself, Granger."

Hermione turned back around and narrowed her eyes. "I am not lying."

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow and lowered his chin, "There are a total of three women that Theo has ever bothered to spare his time for. One of whom is his mother. If he is willingly seeking your company, then he is not doing it out of boredom."

She flinched when Teddy started crying again. He settled again when she went back to the patting motion.

"If you enjoy Theo's attention, know that if you feed it, he will not leave you alone. Is that something you want?"

Was it something she wanted?

She'd already decided that it wouldn't be the worst thing if she ended up with Theo after the war, but now that he'd had her tongue down her throat and it was blander than a roast potato, she'd started to backtrack.

Malfoy was waiting for a reply.

"Confession?" she asked, to which he used his hands as a go ahead.

"Much like yourself, I have always looked eerily similar to my father. Buck teeth, bushy hair, boring brown eyes. These boyish features," she gestured to her face, "have led me to being treated like a boy my entire life, and was probably the main reason why I was befriended by Harry and Ron. I've never had someone open a door for me before, or offer to carry my bags or walk me to my bedroom to bid me goodnight. Theo is the first person to treat me like a proper girl. Would it be so bad to want that?"

Malfoy kept her gaze as she spoke. It was never an uncomfortable stare when he did this, more of a reassuring stare, to ensure that he was absorbing every word she shared.

"Whispers in the Slytherin common room told that Krum treated you like a woman."

"Victor Krum wasn't very much of a gentleman. In fact, he once told me that my breasts did not match my manly face. He was invested in my chest, nothing else."

This time, Malfoy dropped his eyes to the exact area she was talking about. It was the only part of her body that her mother had handed down to her.

Her cheeks heated at his quick temptation. Teddy wriggled in her arms, pushing her bra up like he knew what was causing the tension in the room. Malfoy kept a collected face and brought his focus back to hers, giving the sense that she did not impress him.

"Be that as it may, I used to share a dorm with Nott. He always gets what he wants and won't stop until he does. Tread with caution."

She couldn't help the smirk on her mouth. "Careful, Malfoy. Keep saying things like that and I might think you are trying to protect me."

He took another bite of chocolate the same time Teddy let his whimpers turn to screams. Hermione turned the baby to look over her shoulder as she held the back of his neck.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweet boy," she uttered softly. "It'll stop hurting soon, I promise."

Tears and droll were dripping into her shirt as Teddy expressed his pain. Malfoy rose from the bed to retrieve the medicine by the crib. He poured the liquid into a teaspoon and stood behind Hermione to place it into the baby's mouth.

"I thought you said not to overdose him," she said as he put the bottle back.

"If he dies then you can blame me. I'd rather be locked up than keep hearing a child's torture cries."

Teddy was distracted by the taste of the medicine to keep screaming. Hermione let him rest back into her arms and cooled the tip of his pacifier with her wand. He sucked on it while she wiped his wet cheeks.

Malfoy was watching her from across the room with his arms folded and a look she couldn't interpret.

"What?" She asked.

He shook his head, "Nothing."

A follow up question was about to come out of her mouth when someone knocked on her bedroom door. Both her and Malfoy snapped their heads in panic.

Hermione mouthed to get behind the door to which he did so with complete poise. She put a finger over her lips and opened the door slowly. Her head peeked out first to see who it was.

"Hey," Cho whispered, one eye open and the other behind rubbed by the heel of her palm. "Everything okay? I can hear Teddy from my room."

"Oh, no. Everything is fine. He is just a little distressed. Go back to bed."

She could feel Malfoy's presence so close to hers behind the wood. He was radiating a heat she couldn't ignore.

"Are you sure?" Cho asked again, trying to peer into the bedroom.

"Yes, yes. Go back to bed, we're fine," Hermione pleaded, pressing the door against her shoulder.

Teddy whimpered and snuggled his face into her chest. Cho looked down at the baby, back to Hermione and then squinted in suspicion.

"Alright well, maybe silence the room. Some of us actually like to sleep at night, and not during the day."

"You got it." Hermoine stepped back from the frame, "Goodnight, Cho." Then closed the door completely.

She exhaled deeply and lent her forehead against the wall. Malfoy snickered beside her, "You are a terrible liar."

"You are an arsehole."

Standing back straight, she walked to place Teddy into his cot. He started crying the moment she lifted him over the railing.

"Here," Malfoy said, holding out his hands. "Let me take him."

Hermione frowned, unsure whether to trust Malfoy with someone as small as Teddy. He never had siblings, not really any other family with children, so how would he know what to do. Then again, neither did she.

Hesitantly, she placed Teddy into Malfoy's openly scooped arms.

There is a certain feeling a woman receives when she hands a baby over to a man. It rushes through her insides and plays with ideas it shouldn't. Doing so with Malfoy felt even more forbidden than it usually would. The glimmer in his silver eyes was not helping either.

Hermione's arms tickled when he touched hers to accept the exchange. She rubbed them up and down, feeling the goosebumps form along her skin as Malfoy easily comforted the child.

Teddy was looking up at the new man holding him as if he recognised his own cousin. His tiny fingers clutched and unclutched onto Malfoy's black shirt and his entire body was so small inside those pale arms. One squeeze and Malfoy could crush him in an instant.

"He likes you," Hermione muttered.

"It's not hard to do."

She bit the inside of her lower lip, "Maybe he knows you're his family."

Malfoy brushed his thumb over Teddy's brow. The action made his eyes droop. His long eyelashes fluttered as they tried so very hard not to fall asleep.

Hermione found herself swooning for a second and then pulled herself back together. She sat on the bed and replicated Malfoy's position of sitting against the headboard with her legs crossed while he paced the room in no hurry. Her hands sought the chocolate and began snapping off pieces to eat.

Minutes later when Teddy had finally given in to slumber, Malfoy laid back onto the mattress with the infant curled up on his chest. It was quite possibly the most precious thing Hermione had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Her feet were right by his hips in their T like position and rebelled against the need to tuck themselves under the hook in his back.

"Harry passed out in the living room this afternoon," she said, still chewing.

Malfoy turned his head to look up at her from the bottom of the bed. "Drinking?"

She nodded, "We got into an argument this morning over whether or not I'd buy him more of the drink he likes. I ended up getting it for the sake of not having to fight him anymore. It.. was not.. my best plan."

"If he didn't drown himself in whiskey, he'd probably drown himself in other ways, Granger. You can hardly blame yourself for Potter's fucked up head."

"I know. I suppose I just don't like enabling it, that's all."

Teddy was practically the same size as the hand Malfoy used to hold him with. The blond mindlessly stroked the back of his onesie while staring up at the ceiling. Hermione fiddled with the slice of apple in her hand as she watched it. She thought that this was one of those moments that made Malfoy different from his father.

"Malfoy, do you miss your family?" She asked, unable to meet his eyes that turned back to her.

"No."

"Not even a little?"

He looked around the room and then sighed, "Not even a little. I miss school but not my home. Life was always easier at Hogwarts, bar sixth year."

Hermione shifted so that she lay on her side next to him, with her head resting on her palm. "I doubt that living in a manor would have made for a nice childhood. The whole black interior design and all. No wonder you grew up to be such a prat."

She yelped when he flicked her curled knee. "The one good thing about that manor is the gardens," he explained. "It was the only place I could run without being either yelled at by a portrait or beaten for knocking over an antique vase that my mother worshipped. If I could burn it to the ground, I would."

The brutally in which he said the final part struck her.

"You really mean that, don't you?" She asked.

"Wholeheartedly. Malfoy Manor is poisoned ground. No love can grow there."

Hermione imagined herself burning the house in his favour. Watching as the flames ate away at every room, at every evil engraving on the marbled ceilings. She'd start in the drawing room. At the spot where her blood is stained. Then she'd walk away, proud of the charcoal stenching on her jeans.

Despite having the sharpest jaw known to wizard kind, Malfoy's chin still rolled when he peered down at Teddy's change of hair colour. The faint green tinting was bright compared to the black undershirt it rested on.

"Do you know if my parents are still there at the manor? Living with him?" His voice was hoarse when he asked this.

"No, I don't think so," she answered. "From what McGonagall told me the manor was abandoned after the battle. The Death Eaters are all spread out now."

"Okay," he breathed. His face was relieved but his tense shoulders said otherwise.

A tinge of anxiety rushed through Hermione when Malfoy's hands began to tremble. She scooted down the mattress and waited to see if he was okay to keep holding Teddy. The baby stayed laid flat on his chest when he lifted his arms to look at his shaking hands.

He wasn't embarrassed, nor was he angry. He stayed calm and waited the tremors out.

Without noticing, Hermione had accidentally moved so close that her hip was connected to his and their thighs were pushed together. Her bare leg and his jeans. Malfoy didn't seem to notice. He also didn't notice the pulsating heat that was transitioning through their touch.

Hermione noticed, she very much so noticed.

After nearly three minutes (she counted) of Malfoy's hands continuously shaking, he thoughtfully lifted Teddy up so she could take him from his chest. That same feeling she had when she gave him the baby tickled her insides when he gave him back.

"I think I need to leave," he said bluntly.

Baby in hand Hermione nodded once. "Okay."

His towering build stretched as he rose from the bed. He dusted off any crumbs from his trousers and made his way to exit. With a hand on the knob, he looked back one last time, trying to read something from her, and then left.

It was not rare for either of them to make abrupt departures, however, this one felt a little off.

Placing the baby into his cot, then cleaning any rubbish from their binge, Hermione slipped into bed. Her head was throbbing with the replays of Malfoy's warning about Theo.

Not longer later, she dreamt about the time she was made prefect. One of the happiest days of her life.

Teddy's joyous babbles woke her after the sun hit her window. She took him downstairs to find Fred and George both making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Mornin' you two," Fred said, pinching Teddy's cheeks. "Sleep well?"

She let George take the baby from her arms, "I've had worse."

A shattering crash came from a room down the hall. All three ran with wands in hand to find Harry had fallen out of his chair in his bedroom and smashed his framed photo of Ginny.

"Oh my gosh," Hermione gasped, rushing to help him up. "Are you alright?"

Harry pushed her hands away and slurred, "Ged awaay! I don' need your help!"

His breath was warm with alcohol. The scent burnt her nostrils.

She looked up at Fred and George and with her eyes told them to leave them alone. They looked at her with worry, which she shooed away with a desperate expression.

The room was pitch black, with only the light from the hallway illuminating the bed at the centre. Hermione sat on the floor, resting her back against the foot of the bed and watched her best friend drunkenly fumble on the ground.

Groaning and punching the floorboards, Harry failed to get back into the wheelchair on his own. As a remedy he reached for the whiskey bottle by her feet. She was tempted to kick it away, but knew that would only cause more damage.

There wasn't enough liquid left to satisfy his needs so he threw the bottle at the wall. Glass flew across the room.

Breathlessly, Harry laid on the floor and started weeping.

Hermione crawled over to him and curled herself into the knook of his arms. She could hear his heartbeat, and how unsteady it was against his cries.

"I can' do it anymoore, 'mione," he choked. "I can' save everyone."

Sitting up she stroked his cheek with her thumb, "Hey, hey, hey. It's alright. It's okay. You don't have to save anyone."

"Oh course I do. It's all up to me, isn' it? I can't walk and it's all up to me."

She could literally see the hurt that was crushing him. The snot on his upper lip, the red puffy eyes, the alcohol stained breath, it was all evidence of how much he blamed himself.

Her knees were stinging from glass cuts. Somehow, it made her feel good despite the tears that were now streaming.

Harry cried with Hermione in his arms. Neither spoke. They just sat in their own misery, holding onto the only other person that knew how much they hated themselves for failing the first time.

Hermione kept trying to think of the right thing to say, the cure that would solve his burdens, but her mind was empty. There was no cure. There was just a whole lot of useless hope and far fetched realities.

"I'm sorry for who I've become," Harry croaked. "I'm sorry you're the one who has to cover for me too." He'd sobered up slightly so he could properly enunciate his words now.

"You would do the same for me," she said weakly.

They both sat up, Harry with his legs out and Hermione with hers curled under herself. She pressed their foreheads together.

"Tell me what you need and I'll make it happen," she said. "Tell me what we can do to end this war."

He clenched his eyes shut. "We need to get my legs working. I've run out of potion and need a new dosage."

"Okay. I'll send a patronus to McGonagall to let her know, but that's not been working very well. We need something new."

"I don't know, Hermione. I don't have the answers. You usually have the answers."

She sighed, "I know. I know, I do. I'll get them for you. I promise. But Harry, you have to stop drinking. I'm begging you."

Swallowing the reminder of his tears, Harry agreed. He knew he was spiralling down the drain.

There in the dark cold room of Harry Potter, Hermione declared to no one but herself that she was going to be the one to end this fucking war. She was going to heal Harry's legs, find the snake and bow down as her best friend saves the wizarding world.

Enough was enough.

Andromeda woke up and came downstairs that afternoon. She thanked everyone for looking after Teddy and got teary eyed with appreciation. McGonagall arrived at the house an hour after that, asking Hermione to have a cup of tea with her in the living room.

"Thank you for bringing the potions, Professor. I know Harry may not say it, but he does appreciate all the effort you're putting in to help him heal."

McGonagall sipped her tea gracefully. "You do not need to speak on his behalf, Miss Granger. I trust that Mr Potter is doing what he must in order to find his strength again."

"He is getting there."

Dipping a biscuit into her cup and biting the soggy part, Hermione grew nervous over why she was invited for a chat. This type of individual talk usually meant bad news.

The thing that kept her from scratching at her own skin was the soft smile along her old professor's lips.

"I have a letter from another safehouse to give to you," McGonagall pulled an envelope from her robes. "It is from Molly Weasley."

Acid rolled at the back of Hermione's throat. A common occurrence nowadays. She accepted the letter, tucking it in her back pocket to read at a later time.

"Is that the only reason why you invited me to tea?"

"No, no. I have been meaning to give that to you for weeks but have yet to find a reason to visit until now."

Taking another sip of her tea, Hermione awaited the bad news.

"Miss Granger, I have been advised on the location of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was spotted not far from Whiltshire with another Death Eater. The two have been on a monthly meetup schedule for three months now."

A phantom pain ached Hermione's forearm at the mention of the savage witch. It took everything in her now to pull up her sleeve and check that blood wasn't actually pouring down to her wrist.

"May I ask why this has anything to do with me?" She asked, tracing the rim of her cup.

"I am telling you this, to offer you a chance for justice."

Her heart skipped two beats. "Justice?"

"The Order needs to make an attack. I understand that you were personally victimised by Miss Lestrange during your time in the manor. If you were to accept, the Order is willing to send you to the next monthly meetup to send a message to You-Know-Who."

"What type of message?"

McGonagall placed her saucer on the table beside her. "That the Order is not dead, but he will be."

This was it, Hermione thought. This was her opportunity to either get herself killed or start a revival. Either way, she'd be okay with the outcome.

For the first time in a long time, courage washed over her. She pulled her shoulders back, sucked in breath and gave her answer.

"I accept."

"Excellent," McGonagall nodded. "I will be returning to the farm within the next few weeks to give you a plan. Before I do so, are you aware of the weight behind our first attack since the battle?"

"I am. I am fully aware."

"Very well." Standing on their feet, the professor hugged her student. "You are of great worth to the wizarding world, Miss Granger, with and without your intelligence. Never forget that."

Hermione hugged a little tighter, letting the words sink into her system. It was a wondrous feeling, being seen for more than your brain or your body.

As the day went on, Hermione was too buzzed to eat dinner. She helped Dean make a curry but then proceeded to head back to her bedroom as soon as everyone sat to eat. As her feet landed on the second floor, the sound of running water caught her attention.

It was coming from the bathroom. No one in the kitchen would be able to hear, which meant that only one person was in there, taking a shower.

Opening the door an inch, she poked her eye in to confirm that it was Malfoy.

She couldn't see directly but the reflection in the mirror gave her a perfect shot of his back, and a little further down his back. Bubbly suds were dripping down his pale skin as he faced the shower head and cleaned himself off. Hermione gulped as she watched the soap fall past the dimples in his lower back and over the curves of his arse.

The room was steaming and the reflection was starting to fog. Malfoy tipped his head back under the stream and began to turn around. Hermione panicked and shut the door before she saw anything more of the silhouette that insisted on being seen.

With her back pressed against the door, she wasn't quite able to move. Her cheeks hurt from suppressing a smile and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It wasn't until the shower turned off that she had to force herself away.

Malfoy came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist before her hurried feet made it to her bedroom. They both sort of froze, staring at one another. His fringe was slick against his forehead and the scars along his wet torso went further than she originally thought.

She knew she looked guilty. It was written in her stance.

Licking his lips, Malfoy tightened the hold of his towel. For a reason she would contemplate later, Hermione pulled the string of the attic door and stepped back when the ladder fell to the rug. He glided towards her, not saying a single word, then put his foot on the first step.

She hated how much she liked it when he turned to smirk at her. There was no way that he didn't see her try and get a sneak peek.

Before he could make a snide comment on her pervertedness, she spun back to her room.

Pacing, her hands flung about trying to shake off the desires in her mind. She hadn't seen it all, but she'd definitely seen parts of him. They were good too. Way too fucking good.

By the fireplace, a moan fell through the bricked hole in the wall. Hermione rushed to it, looking up the old chiney to see if she could hear it again. Last time this happened, it was a grunt, but this time, this time it was definitely a moan.

There was a rustling and gritted curse word, then another moan. If she didn't know better, she'd think those were the sounds of-

Scattering away from the fireplace, Hermione blocked her ears with her hands. It was one thing to see a man showering, it was another to hear him get off. She didn't want to hear that. She didn't want to hear what Malfoy sounded like when he was in the depths of pleasure.

One hand at a time, Hermione unblocked her ears and practically crawled back to the chimney. Her chest was rising and falling with every muffled pant that was sent down from the attic.

She could envision the way his jaw would be clenching, the veins popping from his neck, and his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

She remembered the size of his hands. The width of his shoulders. The curve of his arse.

Something was drumming in her knickers, in fact she very well knew what was drumming her knickers. Her nipples were hard against the inside of her bra, there was no denying how hot she was just by his sounds.

It ended with one final fuck. It was aggressive and aching.

Hermione had almost bitten the first layer of her bottom lip off. She didn't fight the way her hands fed inside her pants, nor did she fight the playback of moans that circulated, helping along the way.

Ten minutes later, she was the one that was showering, washing off disgrace with the exact body wash that Malfoy had so sinfully used.

Sleep took over Hermione's body before she could change out of her robe. There on top of her duvet, she dreamt of a summer day she'd spent at The Burrow. Molly had taught her how to bake a lamb pie while the boys threw gnomes out of the garden.

Midnight soon came and she woke up. Malfoy was already standing at the front gates when she looked out her window. Her dream reminded her of the letter that McGonagall had given her, so she took it out of the pocket of her jeans on the floor and made her way to the kitchen.

It wasn't until she sat at the head of the table that she realised she was still in her robe. Quickly, she cast a silencing charm over the room in preparation for when Malfoy came back in.

Opening the envelope, she pulled out the singular piece of parchment and read Molly's neatly messy handwriting.

My dearest Hermione,

I miss seeing your precious face, darling.

Each day I hope that you and Harry are doing ok out there on the farm. Arthur and I love to reflect on all the good memories that you two and Ron shared together over the years. You probably miss him just as much as we do.

I want you to know that Ronald loved you very much. He might not have known how to say it to you, but a mother always knows her son, and his heart was yours. If it weren't for this war, I know that you would have become a second daughter to our family and we would have welcomed you with open arms.

Do not let his death get in the way of what you are fighting for. You or Harry. He is with you, wherever you go and whoever you fight.

I have written to my twin boys to look after both of you over in that house. Arthur and I miss you dearly.

Stay safe,

Molly.

Hermione's hands were shaking and her vision was blurred by the time she finished reading.

A wave of anxiety crashed over her like a tsunami, sparing no one in its path. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. Her ears were ringing so loudly she barely noticed Malfoy come back inside.

Her legs nearly gave way when she pulled out of her chair and tried to stand. Malfoy was talking to her but she couldn't hear. The strap around her robe was too tight against her stomach and she clawed at it, trying to rip it to pieces. Her elbow hit the edge of the sink, sending a shooting pain up her arm.

She liked it. She liked it so much that she picked up a drinking glass and crushed it under the palm of her hand against the bench. Glass carved and sliced her open hand like a scalpel.

Malfoy pulled her away by the wrist. Blood was streaming along her arms and soaking into the cotton of the robe. He gripped her jaw and forced her to look at him.

She still couldn't breathe. She knew she was gasping but no air was actually entering her lungs.

In a realm of dark, silver eyes shone through. Hermione focused on the way he was looking at her and tried to count every time he blinked. By the fifth blink the ringing in her ears stopped.

His fingers were tight against her face and they loosened the second she regained her ability to breathe.

Hermione swallowed, once and nearly fainted the second time she tried to do it. Malfoy picked her up under the arms and placed her to sit on the dining table. He did it as if she was as light as Teddy.

She raised her bloodied hand and saw the numerous amounts of glass stuck in the crevices of her skin. Anyone would think she was wearing a red glove by how much she was bleeding.

"What did I do?" She almost sobbed. Malfoy thought he was talking to her, when she was really talking to herself.

He pulled the biggest piece of glass, "You were being a right dickhead, that's what."

Hermione winced at the sharp sting. She turned her head to the side so that he couldn't see how much she hated herself right now. Her chest was still tight and her brain was thumping against her skull.

His thumb pressed against her wrist, holding her in place, while his other hand did its best to remove the shards. Both of them were shaking so it wasn't the quickest job.

"I need tweezers or something to get the rest," he said, looking at her through hooded eyes.

With a trembling voice she said, "Th-there's a pair in-uh-in the bathroom. Under the sink."

He lowered her hand to rest on her thigh and cupped her knee. "I'll go and get them. Don't move."

His shoes crunched against loose glass as he walked away. Hermione sat on the table, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She wiped away the single tear that ran down her cheek, stupidly, with the back of her bloodied hand.

Malfoy came back with the tweezers in hand and didn't comment when he saw the blood smeared across her face. He gripped her wrist again and started to pick out the remaining pieces.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, standing between her legs.

Hermione looked at the letter on the floor. He followed her gaze and hummed.

"Whose it from?"

Hissing at the tweezers, she said, "Mrs Weasley."

When it looked clean enough, Malfoy rinsed a cloth under the tap and used it to wipe her face first. His throat was so close to her mouth. She could smell vanilla, honey and a hint of sweat. He backed away to wipe her hands, needing to rewash the cloth three times before all the blood was gone.

Everytime she stretched her palm, the wounds opened and he would have to start again. Selfishly, she purposely did it the second time so that his touch wouldn't leave her wrist.

All she wanted was for him to wrap his arms around her body and let her sink into his torso. Instead, he cleaned the glass from the floor with a broom, like a muggle, and dumped it into the bin.

Hermione stayed on the table and allowed him to read the letter when he asked. The end of her robe arm was still damp with blood. It was sticky against her forearm.

"She's made you feel trapped?" He asked, throwing the letter away.

Pressing her lips together, she forced herself not to cry. If Malfoy noticed, he ignored it.

"She didn't mean to. She's just a mother mourning her son. I probably over reacted."

"You reacted how anyone else would have reacted. Minus the glass smashing."

Hermione laughed softly without hesitation, "No. In true confession, I have gotten into the habit of enjoying pain. It makes me forget the hurt inside my heart."

Standing back between her legs, Malfoy frowned. "Don't let your desperate measures distract you from who you really are, Granger. You're not the girl who hurts herself because she's given up."

"Who am I then?"

"The girl who saves the day."

Weirdly, that didn't make the witch feel trapped. She saw a flash forward of her new gravestone: Hermione Granger, daughter, friend, girl who saves the day. It had a nice ring to it.

Malfoy inspected her hand one more time, tracing his fingers over every cut, sending shivers down her spine.

"They're not deep enough to be stitched. Do you have a healing balm?"

"Yes," she whispered, cautious of his proximity to her. "It's in my bag upstairs."

"Do you need me to put it on?"

Her reply was the reason behind why they were now sitting on her bed, with Malfoy's hand massaging her own. She pulled away every time he pressed hard enough for it to really hurt, then came back once it stopped stinging.

"Stop pulling away," he said meanly.

"You're hurting me."

It took a second for Hermione to realise the underlying brutality behind her words. Malfoy went back to massaging her hand with a crease in his brow, and she sat with an apology on her tongue.

When the balm had settled and the cuts were healing, they rose from the bed and walked to the bedroom door.

"Do you want anything to eat?" He asked with one hand on the handle.

"No, thank you. I kind of just want to lie down in my bed and pass away."

Malfoy smirked and stepped into her. She had to lift her chin in order to look up at him. "Don't die just yet," he said smoothly.

Something tugged at Hermione's stomach. They were getting far too close to one another, toying with boundaries and teasing attractions.

He dropped his eyes down her chest and then back up to her eyes. That grin was still firmly planted on his mouth when he left her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Hermione turned on her heel and felt a breeze against her breasts. The strings to her robe had been pulled free.