Hermione had been dreaming of the play in third grade where she'd played Dorothy, when the pain in her eye woke her up. Her bedroom was cold, and the sun barely peeked through the window. She tried to focus her vision multiple times, but was only able to open her left eye. The right was swollen shut.
Her heartbeat was pulsing through her forehead when she turned to face a sleeping Malfoy. Sometime during the night he'd rolled over and by the look of his hair it had been a restless sleep.
His eyelashes fluttered open. The air halted.
Blinking, one, twice, four times, he registered the person he was next to. As if in slow motion, his brow furrowed and his face slid back along the pillow, trying to differentiate real life from dream time.
His hand came out from under the duvet to hover over her eye. She winced a small amount, hoping he wouldn't try and touch it. His palm landed on her ear, and thumb just below her cheekbone.
Hermione's lips trembled.
She'd seen the expression Malfoy was holding before. He had it the night that he choked her and couldn't fathom his own actions.
His skin was so warm in the cold room. She closed her working eye and soaked in his touch. There were hints of a tremor building under his fingertips.
"Did you kill him?" He asked in a whisper.
Hermione shook her head and he shuffled in closer. Their noses brushed.
It felt good knowing that he assumed she'd given Theo hell for what he did. He wasn't running off to start a duel just because he had reason to. It showed a part of his character she wasn't sure existed.
His breath was on her mouth. It still smelt like peppermint. "What do you want me to do?"
Turning her face, she brushed her lips against his wrist and then brought them back to the pillow. He laced his fingers through her hair.
"Say the word and I'll make him regret it."
"Not yet," she said softly. "Not yet."
Malfoy pulled his hand away and got out of the bed. Her eyes gave only a blurry vision of his tall figure putting shoes back on.
"I'm not going to Nott," he reassured her. "I'll be back. Stay here."
Hermione watched him leave. A sob escaped her control as he closed the door behind him. She followed the sound of his footsteps down the stairs and then they disappeared too far out of reach.
Theo's room was downstairs.
Maybe he couldn't keep a promise and went to knock his old friend's teeth out. Malfoy seemed like the type of man who would have no mercy for his victims. He'd bring them to the brink of death and stop before the fatal blow just so they'd suffer without that sweet relief.
He's already done that to her.
The clock on her bedside read 7:31am. She counted with the seconds, every tick until he came back. It was 7:49am when he finally did.
He made her sit up against the headboard and handed her muggle medicine. Two pills, a glass of water and an apologetic look.
"Where did you go?" She croaked, not realising how tight her throat had gotten last night.
"That doesn't matter right now."
He'd never lied to her before, so she trusted his word.
Taking the glass from her hand and sitting on her side of the bed, he said, "Tell me what happened."
Hermione saw flashes of the night before scan across her vision. She'd grown a habit of bottling her trauma with an I'm fine, but she'd never been able to do that with Malfoy so far.
"We were on the porch and he'd brought out wine. I just wanted to drink it to get it over with but I was stupid and asked him why he came to the Order. He kissed me and I tried pulling away but he-he pinned," she sighed, "he pinned me down. He threw my face against the arm of the swing a few times. I got away before he could do anything else."
Malfoy absorbed every word she spoke with eyes of fire. He gave half a nod and turned to look out the window.
"Did you go straight to bed?" He asked.
"No, I-uh-I went to the bathroom. Cleaned the-the blood off my lips and my hair. I scrubbed myself clean so many times I lost count."
His fingers curled over his knees and turned a shade of enraged white. Even though she was the one in pain, she felt a need to wrap her arms around his back and tell him everything was going to be ok.
He turned his cheek to her, but looked at the nightstand. "If something like that happens to you again, I would like it if you told me. I want to know."
Most people would say something like: Why didn't you tell me? Or I could've helped you if you asked. Not Malfoy. He was giving her the option to seek his help. He respected that she deserved that choice.
They didn't need each other, but they could.
Hermione had no compulsion to explain why she didn't tell him straight away. He probably didn't want to hear either. So she simply said,
"Okay."
A knock on the door startled her. Andromeda stepped into the room, already knowing what to expect.
She placed a hand on her heart and walked straight to sit by Hermione. Her motherly affection radiated when she kissed her on the forehead and took her into a hug. Hermione sank into the embrace.
"Oh, my darling girl." Andromeda ran a hand over the back of her hair, "My sweet, sweet girl."
Hermione tightened the hug and breathed in her fruity perfume. Her mum used to wear Chanel. This was much nicer.
Pulling away, the elder witch inspected her eye to great depth. Malfoy watched from the corner of the room with his arms folded across his chest.
"You gave her some pain relief?" Andromeda asked her nephew.
He nodded, slowly, silently.
Holding up a bunch of outstretched fingers, Andromeda asked how many she saw. Hermione said a number that was wrong.
"Hermione, darling, what he has done is unforgivable, but he has not ruined you. Your vision will come back within the next few days, if treated properly. Now, I have a few things in my healer's kit that will help, but I'm afraid you won't be able to expose yourself to light for a few days."
Lifting the corner of her mouth, Hermione said, "Nothing I haven't done before."
She looked over to Malfoy who was staring out the window again. He was watching something out there.
Andromeda helped her off the bed. They walked hand in hand to the bedroom door, but Hermione stiffened.
"I don't-I can't see him."
Taking her hand she said, "Oh, you don't have to see him, my darling."
Together, they opened the door and walked to the balcony that overlooked the hallway of the first floor.
There on the running carpet, stood every member of the safe house, except Theo. They looked up at her, some with hands over their mouths, others shaking their heads. Cho immediately hid her face into Dean's shoulder.
"I don't understand," Hermione said, turning to see Malfoy come out of her room.
He didn't meet her gaze but walked down the stairs to join everyone else.
Andromeda rubbed her upper arm and lent in to whisper in her ear. "Do they have permission to make him regret it now?"
"They?"
"They."
Looking over every person that had their wand at the ready, willing to protect her, was a feeling that Hermione would never be able to replicate. This was hauntingly beautiful. This was heartbreaking and honourable all at once.
Harry's pure green eyes met with hers. She swallowed, exhaled a shuttered breath and nodded.
As a unit, they walked out of the house like any other day that they'd have training.
Andromeda led them back into her bedroom and stood with her by the window. Theo was coming out from the horse's stables, after his morning clean up chores and joined everyone with complete composure.
He wasn't tainted by last night at all. No, he was ignorant to the fact that he'd scarred Hermione more than physically, and proud of it.
Harry was giving out instructions like he usually did and everyone else nodded along with the plan.
Malfoy stuck out like a sore thumb with his pale arms leaning on a chair dragged out from the kitchen. He was an easy target for distraction and barely knew it.
"What are they going to do?" Hermione asked, still watching.
Andromeda squeezed her hand, "You'll see."
Theo was told to sit on the chair, and did so willingly. He was far too oblivious to see Harry's rope binding spell and looked expectantly shocked when he was tied down.
His mouth was moving a million miles an hour, probably asking questions and making demands to set him free.
Dean had first go, hitting him with a hex that looked like it burnt. Cho threw a stinging hex. Both Fred and Harry cast curses that were unbearable to watch. George pointed his wand at his crotch. Then, there was Malfoy.
Given he had no magic, he went for a more physical approach. His fist connected with Theo's jaw twice, letting blood spatter from those pearly whites. Then he took his chin into his hand, lifted his head up to face her bedroom window and said something to him she couldn't quite read.
Hermione sizzled with rage when Theo looked at her. She remembered a movie she watched as a child where one of the characters had lasers for eyes. If she could have any superpower in the world right now, she'd have laser eyes.
Malfoy pulled Theo's face back to meet his own and punched him one more time. That one knocked him unconscious.
He shook his hand out, turning back to the rest of the group and Hermione sensed he was trying to play off his tremors as anger.
From the window, she could see the patches of black and blue forming on Theo's face. His head hung back and mouth was slightly ajar. Even unconscious he looked like a prick.
Andromeda closed the curtains refraining her from seeing anything that happened after Malfoy's return to the group. She fell back into her bed and let herself be tucked in by the motherly witch. A healing paste was rubbed into the lumping of her eye and a bandage was wrapped around her head.
Despite only being awake for less than an hour, Hermione was wary beyond comparison. Her limbs were weak and her mind was static.
A muffling charm was placed over her room as Andromeda left, with the intention of giving her peace. Though, with a heavy weight on her chest, she struggled to rest.
It would have taken a lot for Malfoy to go downstairs and ask for people's help. They'd barely spoken to him yesterday and yet he still did it. Sure, it was on her behalf, but the courage behind his actions was still compendable.
He most likely admitted that he had no magic, too, and that he couldn't finish the job without them.
Hermione pondered on what he would've said to Theo before that third punch. Had he done that last one for her? Or for that third year girl?
That question made itself familiar in Hermione's consciousness for the remainder of the day. The room was pitch black so she didn't have a clue as to what the time was unless looking at the digital clock, but she could smell different staple meals being cooked in the kitchen.
Cho came in at some point and braided her hair. They didn't really talk, but Hermione guessed that she felt guilty for being so jealous of Theo's attention. The hairdo might have been a silent apology.
Fred and George brought her a serving of the stew that Dean had made, and made her smile with witty conversation. They stayed clear of mentioning what happened this morning, but told her that McGonagall came after lunch to take Theo to another house. One with only boys, apparently.
"Will anyone be replacing him here?" She asked their darkened silhouettes.
"Reckon someone might," Fred answered.
"Reckon it'll be an old man with smelly socks too!" George added.
The twins took her barely touched bowl and let her get some sleep, but in truth, she didn't want them to leave. She didn't want to be left alone at all.
Malfoy didn't come back that day. It was too odd for Hermione to ask those who visited her as to where he was, so she waited in anticipation. But he never showed.
She fell asleep early, dreaming of her first time trying sugar quills. Then at midnight, on schedule, her stomach demanded to eat.
Her eye hurt when she tried to sit up so she took the pills on her bedside table. As she moved under the sheets, crinkling of packets came from the foot of the bed. She couldn't see very well so she used her hands to feel, and found the familiar touch of ginger biscuits, cucumber sandwiches and almond chocolate.
No one else knew her favourite snacks unless Malfoy had been secretly paying attention. He must have left them when she slept.
Breaking the healing rules, Hermione snuck out of the bed and navigated herself to the window that oversaw the front gates. She peeked through the curtains with her good eye and saw him standing there. Wand in hand.
There had to be something on the other side of those wards that was calling to him. He hadn't gone last night or the three nights before that.
Malfoy stood, wand at the ready, by the gates for over half an hour. When he finally turned back to face the house, he looked up at Hermione's window. Her face was hidden behind the curtains, but enough for him to know she was there.
He took a split glance up at her, then kept walking to the porch.
Hermione half expected him to come into her room on his way upstairs, but he didn't. She wanted to open her door, invite him in and pretend like none of today happened. However, he'd given her the impression that he very much did not want to see her, nor could he forget today.
Staring up at the ceiling for endless hours, she over-thought everything she had ever done since Ron died. Other people had close ones die, hell Andromeda lost her husband and her daughter, and yet Hermione felt like she was the only one outwardly suffering.
Exhaustion finally caved in and when self hatred had consumed her, she fell asleep dreaming of thestrals.
Baby Teddy woke her up the next day with an open hand slap to her hip. The clock on the nightstand read 11:12am but the block out curtains still made it seem like 5am.
While Andromeda changed the dressing under Hermione's bandage, Teddy played with a ball as he laid on his back, surrounded by pillows.
"Did you get the food I sent up last night?" She asked, mindfully rubbing paste around the swollen eye.
The sharp edge of a knife scratched Hermione's heart. "That was you?"
"Yes, darling. I was hoping you would be awake when I brought them up, but you were sound asleep. The day must have hit you like a tonne of bricks."
"How did you know those were my favourite?"
Andromeda hummed, "A lucky guess, I suppose. Now I know who the mystery ginger biscuit thief is though."
Hermione didn't have the energy to laugh at the small joke. She could barely fathom the corners of her mouth to curl.
Perhaps Malfoy was not as invested into this newly found friendship as she had thought. He didn't have to be. He certainly wasn't supposed to be the person who mended her open wounds, that was something she needed to do herself.
But it still hurt, knowing that maybe she'd gotten her hopes up for something that was destined to fail.
Teddy tried biting the ball in his hands, and then proceeded to try and gnaw at his toes once he got bored of the tasteless plastic. Normally that would make Hermione giggle, but today she just stared at his darkened outline with zero emotions. Her body was drained of joy.
"Would you like me to leave Teddy in here with you?" Andromeda asked as she wrapped the final bandage around her head.
"No, I don't think I would be a very good companion for him today. I'm sorry."
She kissed her cheek, "You do not need to apologise, sweetness. You also need to stop over thinking everything. I can see your wonderful mind working on overload. Let it rest so you can heal, and I don't mean your eye."
Hermione nodded purely so the conversation would end. As much as she loved a good pep talk, she really just wanted to curl into a ball and die. This world that she had fallen in love with was turning against her, and she needed time to find the strength to fight for it again.
Andromeda and Teddy left once she'd been tucked back into bed and given a new dosage of pain relief. Her eye was not hurting as much as it had yesterday, but it was still unbearably sore.
She napped inconsistently until it was just before dinner when Fred and George had carried both Harry and his wheelchair up the stairs to her room. When Hermione welcomed them in, Harry asked to be laid down on the bed rather than placed back into his chair.
The twins left but not without a few lighthearted jokes. Harry sunk under the sheets and pulled her close so that they were hugging on their sides.
Hermione instantly cried.
It burnt her eye to do so, but she couldn't hold it in any longer. She cried because of Theo, she cried because of the war, and she cried because nothing was making sense anymore.
"Malfoy gave me a rundown on what happened," Harry soothed as he rubbed his hand on the back of her braid. "On the porch, with Theo."
Sniffling, Hermione said, "Oh."
"Yeah."
"Are you upset with me?"
Harry paused his hand, "Why would I be upset with you?"
"Because you told me to be careful and I didn't listen."
He tightened around her waist and pressed his cheek to her forehead. "I am not upset with you, Hermione. I am upset with myself for distancing myself from you so badly that you didn't even think to tell me."
"We've both been pushing each other away. I'm just as much to blame as you."
Harry didn't smell like he'd been drinking lately. He used to have this stench of sadness that would linger with the scent of whiskey, and now it was gone. She felt happy about that.
"Should I ask why Malfoy knew you were hurt before anyone else did?" He said this in a way that ensured she had to give an answer.
First, she needed to figure out what Malfoy had said first before she got caught in a lie.
"Did he give a reason for you to be concerned?"
"Not yet. He didn't give context as to how he knew, but made sure we saw for ourselves so we knew he wasn't lying."
Good. She could work with this. "We bumped into each other at night. I told him not to tell anyone until the morning so I could process what happened for myself first."
"And he actually listened to you?"
"Yes. I don't try and seek a reason to hate him anymore, Harry. He's trying, so you should too."
Harry moaned into her hairline. "He just has a very punchable face. You know?"
Hermione smiled, "Trust me when I say that it is not as satisfying as you think it's going to be. He's very sharp."
"I can imagine. But Hermione, if he's anything like Theo, I need you to tell me before anyone else gets hurt."
Hurt like nearly strangled to death?
Even though the two Slytherins were cut from the same pureblood cloth, they were like chalk and cheese in so many other ways. Malfoy may have tried to kill her, but for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on, Hermione knew he wouldn't ever do it again.
Both men had made her bruise, but only one deserved the justified punishment.
"Malfoy is not like Theo," she said confidently. "He's a good guy now Harry. He's not the villain anymore. You see his scars, that's all the proof we need."
"I believe you."
Hermione yearned to ask how he was adjusting to life outside of the attic. She longed to know if he was okay out there with the people who didn't know him yet. Harry would know that something was going on if she did though. He'd ask and she'd have no choice but to spill.
She wouldn't be ashamed of telling what had conspired between them over the last few months, she just wasn't ready for anyone else to know.
It was still their secret.
Harry left her alone in the dark room after Cho had brought them a serving of carbonara spaghetti. Hermione forced herself to eat the dinner to avoid suspicious questions. They ate in the dark and there were most certainly sauce stains on her duvet, but she was less empty than she was this morning.
She could actually chuckle when Harry did an impersonation of Dean failing to know how much washing powder was supposed to go in the laundry.
Cho came and brought a tub of ice cream when everyone else was playing cards, to which Hermione didn't struggle to fake eat.
Swallowing a heavy scoop, Cho got really quiet and then asked, "Do you-do you mind me asking how far he went? Theo. How far he got before you got away?"
"It's hard to explain without being specific."
"Whatever you are comfortable with. You don't have to tell me anything, but I can listen and understand more than the boys."
Having another girl here her age was comforting. Especially now.
"He kissed me. Hard." She said, "I didn't reciprocate it and told him I wanted him to stop. He didn't. He used his legs to pin me down on the swing while he pulled my bra down. I got my hands free from under his stomach and pulled him back, which he took offence to and threw my face on the corner of the armrest, calling me a mudblood."
Cho sniffled in the dark.
"Somehow, I pushed him off. Then I just-I just ran away. I wasn't brave. I wasn't courageous. I just ran."
There is an unspoken comodery between women when it comes to abusive men. Almost every girl has a story. Some go unknown, unspoken, unacknowledged. Others are brought to justice, just like Hermione's. The saddest part is that Hermione knew that Cho understood what she was saying.
"I think when it comes to moments like that, we shouldn't have to be brave or courageous," Cho said softly but powerfully. "We shouldn't have to try to fight for our no."
Hermione felt her hand being embraced in the dark. "I'm so sick of being sad about it, Cho. I hate that he's marked me for the rest of my life. That he stole this trust from me like it was so easy to take."
"Do you keep thinking about everything you did? Wondering if it was all your fault because you said yes to one thing but not the other?"
"Every second I'm left alone."
The two witches gripped each other's hands far too tight. Hermione didn't realise how much she could relate to Cho Chang before. Only they were the most devastating experiences to bond over.
"I was ten," Cho murmured. "It was my older cousin."
"Oh, Cho."
"I didn't really know what was happening but I didn't like it. My parents don't know. Too much time had passed before I realised it wasn't a normal thing and for them to believe me. There's nothing quite like having to face your abuser every Christmas, pretending like he isn't on the forefront of my mind every time I close my eyes. This year will be the first time that I don't have to see him."
There were no words in Hermione's vocabulary that were right for this moment. She pulled Cho into a hug and didn't want to let go.
It was sickening how much they each needed that hug. Criminal, even.
"Remind me why I crave male attention so much?" Cho joked through her tears.
Hermione laughed as well, "If you find the answer. Let me know."
"When I'm with boys, I don't really feel beautiful. I feel used. Do you know what I mean?"
She pulled away from the embrace. "In a way. I haven't really been with anyone outside of below average snogging. Or at least I hope it is below average. All the books I've read have described it as a lot more exciting. But every time I have been kissed it hasn't been just because someone wanted to kiss me. There were always hidden agendas."
"Horrible isn't it? Not being seen as a person, but rather as someone with boobs."
"The worst."
Cho mixed her ice cream with her spoon. "Hermione, I know you might not want to hear this. But this won't own you. Not if you don't let it. Theo doesn't deserve to have a claim on you for the rest of your life."
"It doesn't feel like that right now."
"That's only for right now. In time, no matter how long or how short, someone will make you feel those exciting things you read about in books, and Theo will be well forgotten. Let yourself enjoy intimacy when you can. I know I did when I was with Cedric."
They sat there and shared their experiences until late into the evening. The ice cream tub was forgotten and melted on the nightstand.
As it turns out, Cho is a lot more bearable when she isn't trying to get everyone else's approval. Hermione liked that she could talk to someone who didn't have eyes of silver that made her toes curl from their intensity, and had the power to be seen in the dark.
In the end, she didn't feel a third as sad as she had when she woke in the morning. Knowing that she wasn't alone in her feelings brought heat back into her skin, even if it was on mutual ground about the absolute nerve of men.
Going to sleep that night was easier than Hermione expected. She didn't stay up in the hope that Malfoy would come visit and she didn't look out the window to see if he was at the front gates.
If he didn't want to be around her, that was his issue. Not hers.
She dreamt of the library. Books with endless facts and stories filled to the brim with knowledge.
There were two more days of utter darkness before Hermione was finally released from her bedroom. Andromeda gave her a warning that her eye will take some time to adjust to the light, but the majority of the bruising had gone down.
A fresh shower was like heaven on earth to Hermione. She washed away four days worth of depression, pain and sleep.
Wiping away the steam from the mirror, she stared at her new reflection. Her right eye didn't have any white left in the sclera. It was bloodshot red. The bruising around her brow wasn't as puffed as it used to be but there was a jagged line left from where she'd been split.
If it was caused from a physical duel, she'd think she looked pretty hardcore.
None of her clothes were fitting as well as they used to, so even though it was November, Hermione was forced to wear a dress, a cardigan and fuzzy socks. She thanked her old self for packing them over a year ago despite their impracticalness.
She made a mental note to use a charm to stretch her other clothes later on.
The dress was lavender and swished against her ankles when she walked. It was the prettiest she'd felt in a while.
Fred and George were in the kitchen when she made her return. They made a big fuss of the moment and hugged her until she struggled to breathe.
"Blimey, that bloke really did a number on you didn't he?" Fred said, shaking his head as he lowered himself to see her eye.
"I think you all gave him a taste of his own medicine in return." Hermione bowed her head, "Thank you. It was absurd, but I am eternally grateful."
"Are you joking?!" George gave her another side embrace. "We wanted to kill the tosser! Harry told us to back off, but don't think Malfoy heard him say that."
Hermione put a hand on his chest, "Speaking of that git. Where is he? I'd like to thank him for organising the gang violence."
"Out chopping wood," Fred answered.
"Chopping wood?"
"Yeah. That's become his thing. Someone needed to do it for the fireplace, and he volunteered. Bloody weirdo."
Looking out the kitchen window, Hermione could see Malfoy over by the stables. He was in an undershirt, throwing an axe at logs of wood. Rather aggressively.
George came and joined her watching party. "Imagine how hard he'd be going if he had his magic."
"Probably just getting anger out," Hermione defended. "Better out there than on you two."
The twins laughed and joked to themselves on how they planned to prank Malfoy. Hermione didn't pay attention. She was solely focused on the movement of his shoulders as they threw down the red weapon.
He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and stood with a lean to his left leg. With those definitions and that skin tone, he looked like a well crafted statue.
"Hermione!" Someone called from behind. "You're back!"
Turning, she found it was Dean. He hugged her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked, drawing back to sit on the dining table.
"Better. Much better. I cannot see very clearly but it is enough to get around."
"Good, I'm glad. Listen I'm really-
She held her hand up. "It's really not necessary. Thank you for what you did for me out there, but I don't wish to dwell on it. I got out easy compared to other people, and for that I am very grateful. Let's just pretend like it never happened."
Dean smiled and cupped her elbow. "You got it."
A squeak from the front door interrupted their conversation. Malfoy walked in with his arms full of chopped up wood. His vision was blocked, so he went straight through the kitchen without noticing her presence.
"He's been a real joy down here," Dean whispered as he wasn't in ear-shot.
"Really?" Hermione whispered back.
"No. The muppet has barely said a word."
"What does he do then?"
"Watches really. He helps out and everything, and hangs out with Teddy a whole lot. But only talks when spoken to directly. Somethin' bad must've happened to him out there, 'Mione. He's not the same bloke we went to school with anymore."
She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "Interesting."
Malfoy walked back into the kitchen then. His upper body was glistening with sweat. Hermione wondered what it would feel like to run her finger over it.
He did a double take when he noticed her standing by the window and came to a stop. He scanned her over, taking in the eye, the dress, probably the three day old braid too.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," he said back. Deeply.
Fred, George and Dean were standing between them both, staring. This was the quietest they had ever been in their entire lives.
Malfoy kept her gaze for seven whole beats before he walked away without another word. Hermione watched him until he went back to the stables.
"Wha-" George tried to start.
"Nothing," Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose. "That was nothing."
But she knew that that was most definitely not nothing.
