*TRIGGER WARNING IN PLACE* This chapter involves sexual molestation, and has been written descriptively. Please feel no pressure to read ahead if you do not feel comfortable, a summary will be placed in following chapters that is not as descriptive.
NOVEMBER
Tonight was the third Sunday in a row that Hermione and Theo had cooked a roast together. The first had been too dry, the second, undercooked, and now they were sitting on the floor of the kitchen hoping that they'd perfected the third.
"I think we should take it out in six minutes," Hermione said. "That is a good middle ground from what we did last time."
Theo tossed a pea in the air and caught it in his mouth, "I concur. Maybe this time Cho will keep her tight little mouth shut."
The two were leant up against the bench with their legs spread out in front of them, staring into the yellow glow of the oven. It was like watching paint dry, only worse. Between them was a bowl of cooked peas.
Hermione hated the taste of peas, and hated the way the skin got stuck in her teeth even more. Theo seemed to love them. He'd been throwing them up and catching them like a dog for the past ten minutes. He had yet to miss any and his smug face winked at her every time he did two at a time, as if she was somehow supposed to be impressed by that.
"HERMIONE!" George called down from the hall. "HOW LONG NOW?!"
"TEN MINUTES!" She yelled back.
"Bloody hell…" his voice faded back into the living room and she couldn't hear what he said after that.
Dinner was turning out to be later than usual seeing as she had overslept in the afternoon. There had been an anxiety attack after lunch when Harry threw a spell at Fred during training that resembled a close comparison to Ron's death. It took her four hours to escape the consuming breakdown.
She now knew that Malfoy showered when everyone sat down to eat and wondered if he was getting impatient up in the attic waiting for the roast to commence. Part of her wanted to go up there and tell him about what happened during training, another part of her wanted to apologise for the delay in supper and all of her wanted to watch him shower again.
The ding on the egg timer indicated that six minutes were up. Theo stood and removed the cooking tray out of the oven, releasing the most delicious smell in the world.
It must have wafted down the hall seeing as everyone else came tumbling into the kitchen, with drool hanging from their mouths.
Turns out that they had cooked the lamb to perfection, even Cho was praising their efforts.
Theo was to the side of Hermione and slipped his hand under the table to rub the inside of her thigh. She composed her reaction for everyone else eating, but internally screamed. His hands were clammy and felt all sorts of wrong. For the sake of his dignity, she didn't pull her leg away and prayed that he'd see how tense she was under his touch.
He did not pick up on any cues she tried to give.
Eventually, when most people were done, she excused herself from the table and began collecting plates.
Cho helped with the clean up, bumping her waist when they stood at the sink. "I can smell the tension between you and Theo," she said lowly so no one else could hear. "He can't keep his hands off you."
"That's not always a good thing, Cho," Hermione whispered back.
"I know, I know. I suppose I am lonely, that's all. I am very close to running up to the attic to see if Draco is just as lonely as I am."
The mention of his name sparked inside her ribcage, "Would you really?"
Cho giggled, "No, not really. Though, if he ever came down I would not hesitate in trying to lick his wounds. Figuratively, of course."
Draco Malfoy most definitely had wounds that needed to be licked. The one that ran down his face, the one that sliced his torso, also the one that made his hands tremble. All of which pinned him down.
The dishes were washed and dried by the time most people had decided to go to bed. It was getting too late for any card games and Harry had planned a big day of training tomorrow.
Theo walked Hermione to her bedroom again tonight.
"Well, we were a hit tonight," he said, leaning his shoulder against her door frame. "Perhaps we should cook together every night."
"That would be disastrous and you know it."
"Yes, but in a good way."
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Hermione sensed he was going to try and kiss her again.
Malfoy's warning words played through her memory. He always gets what he wants and won't stop until he does.
As nice as it was to be wanted, the way in which Theo silently refused her boundaries was infuriating. She was a push over and couldn't tell people no even if she tried. Who's to say how far she'd let that people pleasing mindset take her. Does it stay at snogging? Sex? Marriage?
Theo pushed in closer, cupping her face with his hands. He wasn't as tall as Malfoy, she thought. Her chin didn't need to tilt as far up to meet his eyeline.
There was a total of two seconds where Hermione could have stepped back, but failed to do so due to secondhand embarrassment. Theo didn't lean in slowly, he kind of pressed his face against hers and in the process their lips smashed together.
It was one of those kisses where Hermione kept her eyes open because of how ridiculous it felt. Her nose hurt from how much he was crushing her. His tongue tried to slip in between her lips but she groaned and pulled back breathlessly.
"I asked you to give me space," she panted.
He pinched his mouth with a fiery look in his eye. "Your actions spoke louder than words when you threw me into the cupboard last month."
"That-that was different."
"Really? Tell me how that was different, Hermione."
His tone was growing sharp. Frustration was consuming him and boiling over in anger. She'd seen this type of argument play out before, with her parents. If she didn't choose her next words carefully, she'd finally look more like her mother than her father.
"I think we need to sleep this off," she exhaled. "I am sorry for misleading you, I should not have done that."
Theo sucked in his cheeks and inhaled a deep breath, "You're going to give me more than an apology to make it up to me. Go to bed, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow."
His assertiveness was an ugly shade of green. She took the free pass and hid in her room, closing the door behind her with her face in her hands.
"Will you punch him tomorrow, or should I?" A husky voice said from her bed.
Hermione jumped, clutching her chest. "Jesus, Malfoy. Don't scare me like that."
He folded his arms across his chest. "Seriously, Granger. I've experienced first hand the blow of your fist, but I'd be happy to knock that wanker out on your behalf. Wiping that pearly grin off his face would be as if Christmas came early."
The witch collapsed onto her knees and fell onto the floorboards with a frustrated sigh. She laid like a starfish, pissed off with herself for having no backbone.
Malfoy stood over her with one foot on either side of her legs, "What are you doing?"
"Wishing I would melt into the floor."
She closed her eyes and opened them again with a cocked brow, "Why are you in my room right now? People are still awake."
"Don't change the subject. What are you doing dragging Nott into cupboards?"
Before the words filtered through her mind, they poured out of her mouth, "Snogging him."
Malfoy blinked and if she wasn't mistaken, his eye may have twitched. She hadn't meant for her reply to be so blunt, or so crass. There was just an automatic way her body reacted to Malfoy and most of the time it was out of her control.
"Someone assumed the bruises on my neck were love bites," Hermione further explained. She felt it was necessary for some reason. "I pulled Theo into the cupboard to cover up the lie."
From her position on the floor, Malfoy was so tall that she thought he could easily stomp her out with the sole of his boot. He looked down at her with an unreadable expression. She wanted to wriggle out of his legs and run away to another country.
He held his hand out for her to grab. She stared at it momentarily before reaching up to take it. He pulled her up with ease, leaving them toe to toe and chest to chest.
The back of his three fingers found her neck once more. Hermione lent into it this time. His touch was hot and made her stomach flip.
"You don't need to lie on my behalf, Granger," he said sternly. "I will own my actions."
Her eyes fell to the tip of his chin, then to his chest, then to his shoes. His hand turned over so that it rested on her neck in a choking position, but gave himself no power to follow through. She knew he felt her swallow under his thumb.
"I don't mind lying for you," she breathed.
He let his forefinger trace the edge of her jaw. "Well, I do. If anyone asks, tell them the truth. No one should have to snog Theo Nott for me."
Hermione smiled with her teeth on display. Malfoy smiled back without his teeth on display.
The same time that she tried to stand on her tiptoes, he dropped his hand and pulled away. She hadn't noticed before but he was wearing a black t-shirt tonight, not an undershirt, tucked into black trousers that were boreline dress pants. His arms were tight and his shoulders were broad.
Hermione went to her nightstand and pulled out two packets of biscuits, four muesli bars and one bag of family crisps. She threw the food onto her bed, crossed her legs at the pillows and ignored the surprised look on Malfoy's face when he sat at the end of the mattress.
"In case of emergencies," she stated.
"Is this an emergency?"
"When you are here before everyone has gone to bed, yes, it is an emergency. You just haven't told me why yet."
Inclining onto his elbow, he ripped open a muesli bar and picked at the oats. Hermione had indulged almost the entire packet of ginger biscuits by the time he finally gave her an answer.
"I'm getting claustrophobic up there. All these glimpses of freedom I have with you are seducing me and when I'm up there long enough, I have to force myself from coming down."
She liked the way he said the word seducing. It was luring.
"Are you scared of what would happen if you did?"
He ate another oat, "More like, avoiding the consequences."
They both knew what would happen the day that he ever did come downstairs. As much as most people assumed that he was in the attic, they would never be prepared for his return back down.
Harry would get resentful, Theo would get jealous, Fred and George would get angry and Hermione would have to decide whether or not she'd defend him.
"I can give you something that might help you decide," she nibbled at the corner of her biscuit.
He narrowed his eyes, "What's that?"
"Earlier tonight, Cho said that if you came downstairs she wouldn't hesitate in trying to, and I quote, lick your wounds."
He let her answer linger for a few moments which was torture for Hermione. She could see him processing whether or not that was something that would draw him down or drive him away.
Suddenly, her legs were cramping and she had to untuck them to release the tension.
"Cho Chang, you say? Potter's old girlfriend?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes. That Cho Chang. Don't act like you haven't seen her outside. I know you spy on us when we're out there."
He reached out and grabbed her ankle, dragging her down the mattress a little. She belly laughed and then slapped a hand over her mouth, forgetting that people might hear. Malfoy chuckled at her recklessness.
"From what you've told me about, Cho, she would be nothing but a thorn in my side. You may have just sealed my fate of staying in the attic forever, Granger."
Being very glad that she had a hair removal charm on her legs, Hermione slowly slid her foot out of his grip. He released her, but not without ensuring he dragged his fingers against her skin along the way.
She scooted back and realised her shirt had lifted up in the motion of being yanked. Her newly expanded stomach rolled over the brim of her shorts. Malfoy never judged her for the amount of food she ate, or the way her clothes were fitting tighter. So the way in which he eyed her as she pulled her shirt down was not of a critical nature.
"I would like it if you came downstairs," Hermione said, shyly.
"Would you?"
"Yes." There was no point lying between them. They both had a habit of spilling the truth anyway. "Would you want me to pretend like we haven't seen one another?"
Malfoy took the biscuits from her hands, "I made my intentions clear when I said I could own my own actions. Can you own yours?"
The question played in her mind. Could she?
"Only if you promise not to punch, Theo."
He made a noise of disappointment, "You drive a hard bargain. But I'm sure I can restrain myself for you."
She stole the biscuits back and ate the last one. "I thought the two of you were friends?"
"Yes, in first year, Granger," he said like that was a given. "Then we grew up and both turned into two different breeds of prat."
Hermione waited for there to be more to the story, but Malfoy opened the packet of crisps unaware of the cliff she was hanging from.
"Surely you are not just going to leave that there? It is crucial that you explain to me, right now, what these separate types of prat are."
His cocky side was showing by how much he relished in her not knowing.
He looked her directly in the eye when he said this next part. "Nott and I are cut from the same cloth. A privileged cloth that was hand washed by house elves. One of us learnt what the word no meant, and the other chose to stay ignorant."
A cold chill ran down Hermione's spine, which then turned her blood to ice. "Can you confess to me what he did, so the assumptions in my mind don't haunt me when I see him next?"
"It's not my story to tell."
"Please. Malfoy."
He cleared his throat and sat up so one leg hung over the edge of the mattress, and the other curled on it. Pinching the tip of his nose, he avoided her gaze.
"Back when we were prefects, I was monitoring the halls one night and heard noises coming from an empty classroom. This was pretty normal, in fact I'd done the same thing myself, so I wasn't going to go in there with a punishment. Until one of the muffled sounds became a clear denial. The girl said it several times. There was no doubt that whatever was happening was going too far.
"I opened the door and it was Theo with a third year. We must have been in fifth at the time. She looked at me with these big doe eyes, like I was her saviour. Theo rolled off her and no one said a thing when she ran out of the room. We've barely spoken since."
The red flags had been waving in front of her face the entire time, and she'd chosen to be oblivious because she liked being liked.
What an idiot.
Malfoy shifted in his seat, clearly unsure of whether or not to reach for her. Hermione backed herself into the pillows and banged her head against the headboard.
"He might've changed, Granger. I don't know him as well as you do now."
She stayed silent.
"Do you want me to leave?" He asked.
Shaking her head, she said, "No."
Their eyes danced over one another. Hermione pulled her knees up to her chest and let her chin rest on her arms. Malfoy slipped his shoes off and picked up every piece of wrapping off the bed, either putting it back into the nightstand or in the waste bin by the desk. As he was there, he grabbed two books from the pile, handed her one and kept the other.
"Reading helps when I regret," he explained, lying across the end of the bed.
She was regretting every time she let Theo touch her.
Malfoy had chosen the original text of The Winter's Tale. She almost smiled at the idea of him possibly choosing it for her name's sake.
They read separately, together for hours until she saw that he had dropped his book onto his chest and had fallen asleep.
His face was so much softer when he wasn't scowling. The moonlight twinkled against his pale skin and illuminated his blond hair. He actually looked eighteen for once. Hermione couldn't resist the peace that came from simply watching him sleep.
She gently placed her book on her night stand and slipped under the sheets, careful not to kick his face. He probably would have wanted her to wake him, but he looked so exhausted that she chose not to.
Or maybe it was because she didn't want him to leave. Either way, falling asleep was the easiest part of her day.
Malfoy rolled over hard enough to wake himself up. He was in a daze so strong that Hermione had time to pretend to be asleep herself, giving no reason for him to ask why she didn't tell him to get out.
She closed her eyes and faced the window. There was a pep talk racing through her brain saying, don't smile because your dignity depends on it. Her inner monologue started out as a casual talking to, then flipped to a shout when Malfoy climbed up the bed and laid beside her.
He might've still been asleep when he chose to do this, but Hermione couldn't deny the thudding of her heart. His back was to hers, he wasn't under the covers, and the light snoring that followed after ten seconds showed that he really was tired.
She had half the courage to flip over and see if he would too. Instead, her better judgement forced her to stay facing the window, leaving her with nothing better than to watch the stars.
The next morning, Malfoy had left before she woke. His pillow was still warm when she rolled over to feel it. It smelt like him too.
Hermione's feet strangely led her to the fireplace, in search of a sound coming from the attic. As a result, it was dead silent.
On a whim, she ran downstairs to see if Malfoy was there and every room came up empty.
She didn't know how disappointed she would feel until he didn't show. The feeling made her want to vomit. Being attached to someone like Malfoy only led to torture, and Hermione had had enough tortune for one lifetime.
Three days passed where Malfoy didn't show, at night, nor during the day. He didn't go to the front gates, he didn't meet Hermione in her room or in the kitchen.
Not a peep came from the fireplace. It was completely radio silent on the blond.
If Hermione didn't know any better, she'd say that he'd been ashamed of falling asleep beside her. That his subconscious has humiliated him by dropping the illusion that they'd created.
Theo had retreated from his pursuit too. They walked in heavy silence to the market on Tuesday morning and he'd only offered to carry her bags at the last minute. Oddly, the only person who truly wanted to talk to Hermione was Cho.
Harry was busy with constructing a plan to kill Voldemort that no doubt had flaws, Dean was consumed by everything that the twins dragged him into, and Andromeda had Teddy.
Then, on a November Thursday morning, Draco Malfoy entered the kitchen in broad daylight.
Everyone was seated around the dining table, and the moment he stepped into the room, cereal spoons splattered against bowls. Hermione's eyes widened, almost comically. Her body twitched to stand but remained at the head of the table.
He was wearing a white t-shirt.
"Hello," Malfoy said, then proceeded to look every person in the eye, except Hermione.
Teddy was smacking his lips, making the only sound as everyone else sat stunned. Malfoy looked good. He looked rested and clean, not at all like he had been stuffed in an attic for months on end.
Dean stood first, offering his hand. Malfoy took it, sceptially. They shook, one, twice, three times.
Andromeda stood second, embracing her nephew in a hug he returned lightly. She gestured her hand for him to take a seat, "Come have breakfast with us, darling boy."
Fred and George seemed to be speaking to each other without the use of words. A twin intellect. Harry still had his jaw on the ground, and Theo was damn near seething.
There were three seats available for Malfoy to take. One, next to Cho, one next to Dean and one, next to Hermione. He took the one by her.
His aunt placed a cup of tea in front of him and wasn't offended when he said no to the food she offered. Hermione was struggling to decide whether to look at him, or the piece of toast on her plate. She knew people were waiting for her reaction.
Under the table, she hooked her foot around his ankle. He didn't react, but his shoulders relaxed.
She cleared her throat and said, "Harry, do you mind going over your plan for training this afternoon? I can't remember if we decided on blocking spells or defence spells for today."
A little jarred, Harry looked between her and Malfoy. She used her eyes to tell him to answer her question.
"Blocking spells," he said bluntly. "We're focusing on blocking spells this week."
Dean started to ask Andromeda on what she used in the scrambled eggs that made them so creamy. Hermione didn't hear the answer, her entire being was so very conscious of the man beside her.
In the corner of her eye, she watched him take a sip of tea and pretend to listen to the conversations across the table.
He was sitting parallel to Theo, who was avoiding his eyeline. Theo's hand went under the table and tried to rub her thigh again, but Hermione flinched away so he couldn't reach. He outwardly huffed out the anger boiling inside him.
Malfoy moved his leg so that she knew he was watching, despite not actually watching. Cho was blushing as he listened to her demand for people to stop eating all of the chocolate.
Small discussions floated throughout the rest of breakfast, some of which Hermione participated in. Malfoy stayed quiet and only observed, even when Fred called an unnamed Death Eater a cunt. Hermione saw that he hadn't covered up his burnt off Dark Mark, and she wondered how long it would take before people started asking questions about that and the scar on his face.
In the three days he had disappeared, she didn't realise how much she craved his presence. Having Malfoy here, in the kitchen, felt a lot like how she assumed it would be like to take drugs.
A big high, only to have a bigger downfall.
People scattered after breakfast, and Hermione offered to do the dishes. Malfoy stayed back to help, probably unsure of what he was supposed to do after his grand entrance.
When Harry finally left she said, "You came down."
"Only for Cho," he quipped.
She handed him a freshly cleaned bowl, to which he dried by hand.
"Confession? I have no fucking clue what I'm doing down here."
Hermione scrubbed hard at a pan, "What made you want to come down in the first place?"
"This voice that keeps screaming at me, reminding me of how much of a coward I am."
She stopped scrubbing. "You're not a coward." He was quiet so she reasoned with him, "At least not anymore."
He took the pan out of her hands and wiped it bone dry. They stayed like that for a minute until Hermione couldn't take it anymore.
"Why did you stop going to the front gates?" Hidden behind that question was what she really wanted to ask, which was: why did you stop coming to see me?
"I needed a few days to figure out what I wanted."
"Did you figure it out?"
She heard him audibly swallow. "No."
"I'm sure you will."
Andromeda came back into the kitchen with footsteps that were possibly made louder than necessary. She peeked her head in the doorway first, and then the rest of her body.
"Draco, darling," she clasped her hands together. "Why don't you come and meet Teddy while Hermione joins the others in training?"
Malfoy turned his face to look at her and then back at his aunt. "I can do that."
"Excellent! Come come, he's in the living room, babbling about how much he wants to meet his cousin."
Hermione suddenly grew nervous. She was worried he would mess it up somehow and banish himself back into the attic.
There was hope in the kindness of Andromeda, though. If he was going to be broken into this farm family, it was going to be her to do it. Hermione was expected to hate him, so her praises of his changed behaviour wouldn't land as well.
He left with his aunt on his arm, and Hermione went outside to the paddock where everyone was getting ready to rehearse blocking spells.
Harry sat in his chair by the tyre swing. He kept his eyes on the other people while she approached.
"I take it that wasn't the first time you've seen Draco Malfoy since we've been here," he said, judging her already.
This was the time where Hermione had to realise the value behind her answer.
I made my intentions clear when I said I could own my own actions. Can you own yours?
"We have bumped into one another during the nights." She crossed and uncrossed her arms. "That was the only time he could really come out of the attic without being torn to pieces."
Harry scoffed, "I'm surprised you didn't."
Hermione looked at the tree above and smiled. "Ah, there were a few attempts."
Across the grass, Fred and George were fake wrestling. Dean was showing Cho how to properly flick her wrist for the sphere of protection she was trying to produce. Theo was doing his own thing by the hay bales, definitely not using a blocking spell.
"I trust your judgement, Hermione," Harry said, turning his chair to face her direct one. "Do I or do I not need to be worried about Malfoy?"
"He is here on his own terms, Harry. I'm not filled in on the whole story, but he made his decision to turn over to the Order well before the Hogwarts battle. We have no right to tell him he can't fight with us."
"Fight with us is one thing, but live with us is another."
In between August and now, the world had turned sideways, where Hermione Granger was defending Draco Malfoy. She could just picture herself one year ago, criticising herself for such an action. Her foot stomped on the ground and nose up in the air. She would have found it absolutely ludacris.
Over on the porch, Andromeda came out with glasses of cold water. Behind her stood Malfoy with Teddy in his clutch. He held the baby so that his little back was pressed against his chest, and his legs hung over his arm so he could see what was happening.
All three watched from the back of the house as they went through old and new tactics.
Hermione was the one throwing the hexes, and everyone else was blocking them. She went hard, not holding back from the roughest of spells. Dean was her toughest competition. He was getting better day by day, and knew how to make her break a sweat.
Cho was getting there. Fred was better at improvisation than George, but George had better reflexes. Theo was a complete show-off. He was quick on his feet and he knew it.
A joyous squeal came from Teddy, almost pulling her attention from the duelling. It took a lot for her not to look over at them instead of Harry's assertive instructions.
In the end, the air grew too cold and they had to come back inside for lunch.
The same thing happened at lunch as it did at breakfast. Everyone had their assorted seats, Hermione pretended to eat, and small chit chatters floated between.
Malfoy had yet to say a word to anyone. No one had yet to say a single word to him. There was a tension in the air that refused to be cut. He'd hung around his aunt and his cousin most of the day. He was playing it safe and everyone else was okay with it.
It went like that until after dinner. Fred had cooked his typical bangers and mash, and George did the dishes.
Cho pulled Hermione aside when she had exited the shower, dragging her into her nail polished scented room.
"Oh my God!" Cho whispered-yelled. "How are you so calm right now?! Draco Malfoy is downstairs and we're all just sitting around like he's been here the whole time."
"What do you expect to happen, Cho?" Hermione laughed, "A fist fight?"
"Maybe? Literally anything other than silence. What do you think made him come down?"
"I don't know." That was true.
"Do you think he's been watching us this whole time? Sneaking out when we're all asleep?"
"I don't know." That was a lie.
Cho tucked her hair behind both of her ears. "It's so odd, don't you think? I was only just talking about what I'd do if he ever came downstairs, and here he is… downstairs."
The wet hair on Hermione's back was starting to annoy her. She wanted to leave this conversation, dry her curls and check that Malfoy was alright.
"Do you think he wants to be left alone or for us to make an effort to be his friend?"
Something between envy and protection brewed within the lining of Hermione's heart. "I think that you should give him some space. He's only just found the courage to leave his attic and I doubt he wants anything other than respect right now."
Cho nodded, but definitely did not absorb anything she said. "That scar on his face wasn't there when Pansy died. It must've hurt, really bad."
"Don't ask him about that."
"Why?"
Yeah, Hermione. Why? "Just, don't."
It was nearly 8 o'clock and the card games were going to start soon. When she dressed in her pyjamas and dried her hair with her wand, Hermione anxiously made her way to the living room. She needed to warn Malfoy that he didn't have to feel compelled to stay up with everyone.
Theo caught her in the doorway before she fully stepped into the room.
"Hey, Hermione," he drawled. "How about you and I have a swing on the porch, yeah? Just you and me?"
She was startled by his close proximity and hand on her ribcage. Her eyes fled to find Malfoy, who was burning holes into the back of Theo's head from the biggest arm chair.
Dean was dealing him a stack of cards and telling him the instructions on the game.
"Oh, I think I would like to play-"
"Come on, you don't ever want to play cards. Don't tell me you're here just because Malfoy is. Do you fancy him or something?" He said this so loudly that everyone in the living room stopped to hear her reply.
Her chest was constricted. She was trapped, Theo was trapping her.
"No," she said firmly but with a weak voice.
"Good. Then I think you can spare one night to have some wine with me, right?"
Everyone's eyes were on her. Her backbone was about as strong as a custard horn. She nodded, regretting it the moment her neck bowed.
Theo's hand squeezed her waist and he pulled her from the doorway to the front porch. It happened so fast that she didn't have the time to see what anyone else had thought of her decision.
Well, not anyone. Someone.
On a white table next to the swing sat a bottle of wine and two glasses.
He led her to come and sit beside him and handed her a very full serving of the red alcohol. She accepted with wary hands.
Theo blew his lips, "Well, we certainly didn't see Malfoy coming downstairs this week, didn't we?"
Taking a big sip, Hermione said, "Certainly not."
"Good for him though, right? Not being scared anymore."
"I wouldn't say scared. Maybe more conscious of his prior mistakes."
"I'd say scared."
She refrained from releasing the curse words on her tongue. All she needed to do was to finish this bottle of wine, pretend to enjoy his conversation and definitely not remember the story of him with that third year girl.
A horse neighed from behind the house and crickets chirped in the grass. The stars weren't as bright as usual tonight, being hidden behind the heavy rain clouds tempted to pour.
"So what do you see yourself doing once the war is over?" Theo asked, refilling her half full glass.
"Assuming we win?" She said. "Probably the most low-key job that the ministry is offering. I am done with fighting. I'm done with bad guys."
"I have my family's estate to take over. That is in the hopes that my parents die at some point between now and then."
"That is a pretty harsh thing to say, Theo."
He shrugged and took a gulp of his drink, "It's the truth. They're not good people and definitely don't deserve a pardon for their actions."
A conversation from months ago popped into Hermione's head.
"Theo, you said that if I ever wanted to find out why you turned over to the Order, I'd have to get a few drinks into you first. Can I ask you now?"
He scratched his chin and choked on a laugh. "I suppose now is as good a time as any."
Hermione shifted so her leg curled onto the swing and balanced her glass on her knee. She waited and waited until he finally told her.
"I came to the Order because I wanted to find you, Hermione. I didn't really sign up to fight or to do the good thing, I just wanted the mudblood I've wanted since first year. The mudblood that can tear my fucking stupid family to shreds. You are your filthy little cunt are all I need to make my father have an early death."
This was the worst kind of confession she'd ever heard. Her nails were scratching against the glass in her hand, seconds away from being fractured.
"Theo, that-"
"No, don't say anything."
He pulled the glass out of her hand and put it back onto the white side table. One of his hands laced hers and the other sought the back of her neck. Hermione tried to pull away but he was stronger. His entire weight was on her before she could blink.
Theo was top of her with his mouth trying to find hers. She fought against it, shaking her head from side to side.
"Theo, stop. I don't want this."
He slipped his hand under her shirt, "Yes, you do. It'll feel good. Let me show you."
"No, I don-"
His legs pinned her body down onto the swinging chair and his hands kept her face in place, roughly, to force his lips onto hers. Hermione groaned against it, lifting her hips in an attempt to push him off her, but it only had it worse. He was getting hard on her refusal.
She tried talking into his mouth and he bit her in punishment. Blood was swirling along her teeth as she choked on to the metallic taste.
Fingers toyed with the front of her bra, pulling it down for access to her breasts. Hermione got her hands loose from under his stomach and pulled the back of his head away. Her throat had a scream lodged stuck, no noise was coming out of her mouth no matter how hard she willed herself to cry for help.
Theo took a bunch of her hair, lifted her head and slammed it onto the arm of the porch swing. "Don't you fucking try and stop this, mudblood!" He hissed, throwing her head down a second time.
Hermione's right eye was burning, throbbing, aching, all the pain known to man, her eye was going through it. Her body had no strength left in it, but she refused to accept the fate that so desperately wanted to catch her.
She was not going to be doomed.
It might have been adrenaline, it might have been anger, but something pushed her to find an abnormal amount of power in her arms and throw him off her. Theo fell off the swing onto his back. Hermione scrambled to sit up, unable to see out of one eye and stomped on his groin.
He hunched over in agony, giving her enough time to run away.
Her legs fumbled as she sprinted back inside. She went right past the living room, right past the kitchen and straight up stairs to the bathroom.
Shaky hands locked the door and a broken body fell to the tiled floor.
Blood was dripping down her lips and her temple. She reached out to touch her hairline and wasn't surprised to see red on her fingers.
Something vile was coming up from her stomach, and she barely made it to the toilet bowl before throwing up. It smelt of wine and regret.
Her legs wobbled when she stood to stand, flushing the toilet and turning the taps on the shower. Clothes fell to the tiles and hot water burnt her skin raw. She sat at the bottom of the bath, watching the red and orange colours swirl down the drain.
There were no thoughts in her mind. Only playbacks of what happened.
After three scrubs of body wash, two brushings of teeth and one more wash of hair, Hermoine stepped out of the shower to see her reflection in the mirror.
Her eye was inflamed on the outside, bruises forming rapidly, and bloodshot on the inside. It wept, and stung like a fucking bitch.
Where there was once anger and sorrow swimming in her veins, was now replaced by defeat.
Hermione put her blood stained pyjamas back on and dragged her feet to find her bed. Sinking into the mattress, under the covers was like being swallowed by the comforting embrace of her mother.
Her face was turned to the window and stared out onto the rain clouds above. She wanted to drown herself in the downpour.
She rethought every interaction she'd ever had with Theo. Starting in first year at Hogwarts, all the way to tonight. She loathed herself for being the girl who couldn't resist his charm.
Someone opened her door and she froze, terrified he had come back for a second round. She'd forgotten to lock her door in the rush of wanting to sleep.
"Granger?" Malfoy's deep voice echoed within her room.
"Yeah?" She quivered.
He came and laid down next to her on the bed. She didn't face him. She didn't want him to see her like this. His legs tucked under the duvet and she could feel the heat radiating from his back to hers.
"Theo didn't try anything, did he?" He asked with concern.
Hermione bit really hard onto her thumb and forced her voice to say a steady, "No."
They laid there, together, in the quiet. Her eye was throbbing beyond belief. She wanted him to know that something was wrong, turn her over and make it all better again like he did with the broken drinking glass.
But she also didn't want that. She didn't want to deal with the consequences of it tonight. That could wait until tomorrow.
Malfoy adjusted his head on the pillow. "Potter gave me a talking to, just now."
"What did he say?"
"Some bullshit on behaving myself and pulling my weight."
She could see his face as he was being scolded. Cold, cool, collected.
"Malfoy…" she whispered.
"Yeah?"
Now was her chance. Now was her chance to tell him. Now was her chance to have him fix it and blow it up all at once.
"You did well today. I'm glad you came downstairs."
He exhaled. "Goodnight, Granger."
Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and finally let herself silently cry.
"Goodnight, Malfoy."
