Just to let everyone know, I've begun posting this fic over on AO3 as well and there will most likely come a point where I need to stop posting it here (due to FF's content policies) and only continue it there. I definitely haven't gotten there yet (all aboard the slow burn train!), and I will drop another note when that does occur.
For anyone that prefers reading on AO3 you can find this fic there under the same name, as well as me under the sam username!
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Hermione and Harry were greeted by a warm haven all in tones of blue and cream, bathed in light which streamed in from a gigantic window occupying the middle of the far wall. Not only that, but they had stepped into what actually seemed to be a morning room — in front of the large window was a small breakfast table with a pair of matching chairs, then occupying the center of the room a plush loveseat and armchair set in Aegean brocade and wood. There was elegance dripping from every corner of the room, but Hermione didn't have eyes for it — no, what now held her gaze was much more significant, in her opinion.
"Oi, aren't all of those books yours, 'Mione?" Harry's eyes had followed her own and landed on the floor to ceiling wooden bookcases, four in total, taking up the entirety of the wall to their left. Sure enough, the collection Hermione had kept stuffed into every nook and cranny of her small living space back in London was there in completion, with even a few more shelves of room left over.
"Y-yes, yes they are. Malfoy, how…?" She turned her attention now to the man looking supremely uncomfortable in the middle of the room, stopped halfway in crossing to a door sat in the wall opposite the small library.
"You didn't exactly leave a detailed list of what you wanted from your flat. When Whipsy asked I remembered that you'd always had your nose glued to the inside of a book back at Hogwarts, so I told her just to bring the lot rather than deal with you harping about anything being left behind."
His reply was gruff, tone clipped as he shifted his weight and glanced at the wall of books, but Hermione couldn't feel any bite behind the lackluster barb.
"Now, if we're all done staring at the house elves' work—"
Malfoy finished crossing to the next door and opened that as well, ducking inside but then stopping just at the edge of the door with enough room for Harry holding Hermione to slip past.
Harry followed with no complaint, this time not being careful enough and banging Hermione's knee into the frame. She let out a small bark of pain and Harry immediately started apologizing, while Malfoy simply took the moment to scrub his hand through his hair and let out a long suffering sigh.
Nott waited patiently for the pair to make it all the way into the room to follow from where he had been still standing back near the entryway. He paused at the door frame, sharing a look with Malfoy that Hermione couldn't decipher. Malfoy held his gaze for a moment before something passed between him and the man frowned, turning back to Harry with an even more annoyed expression.
"To the bed, then. Careful of the tray."
This was indeed the bedroom, and both Harry and Hermione couldn't keep their eyes in one place for long as they tried to take everything in. Taking up almost the entirety of the far wall was a giant, four poster bed whose upholstery and linens matched the aegean blue & cream brocade from the other room. It was piled with pillows, and Hermione couldn't help but think that she had never slept in a bed that large. Two of the similarly styled windows from before occupied another wall, with what looked to be a writing desk nested in the middle stocked with paper and quills aligned neatly on the tabletop. A large ornate mirror occupied a corner beside a roomy stand-up armoire, and just a few feet away from that another door offered a glimpse of what could only be a private bathroom off of the bedroom.
"Blimey… seems like he's smart enough to treat you well, huh?" Harry had leaned in slightly to whisper this to Hermione as he made his way around the bed, but there still came an indignant snort from behind them.
"Guests staying in the manor are always treated well, Potter. The Malfoys know how to host."
Harry scoffed as he delicately set Hermione down on top of the coverlet, being careful not to upset a tray of medical supplies that had obviously been recently left by Malfoy's house elf.
"Not exactly how I remember it, Malfoy."
The sentence was out of Harry's mouth before he realized what he was saying, and Hermione watched his eyes pop wide and the color drain out of his face in slight horror.
The sudden tension in the air was like a living thing winding around them as they all instantly became stock still. The comment seemed to let loose the million unsaid things that lay between the people in the room, each one so present that Hermione felt she could almost hear the vicious hiss of them from where she lay.
Her eyes flickered from Harry's face to Malfoy, who had gone equally as pale as her friend. His jaw was clenched, as were his fists at his sides, and he seemed to be warring with himself to keep some force inside of him from bursting out. The effort of it was written across his face, burning in his eyes as he kept them locked on the floor directly in front of him.
The first to move was Nott; almost forgotten by the others, he stepped up just beside Malfoy and laid a hand on his shoulder, seeming to jolt him out of whatever internal struggle was raging there. Malfoy turned slightly and the two of them seemed to exchange a completely silent communication which ended with Nott nodding mutely. At this affirmation, Malfoy turned fully and strode out of the room at speed, the silence broken by the door to the hall slamming shut in his wake.
"I-I shouldn't have said that, that was a bloody stupid thing for me to say—"
Nott had moved around the bed beside Harry now and was reaching for the tray of supplies even as he cut off Harry's desperate stuttering.
"We all know what happened in this house, Potter; most of all Draco. We knew that bringing Ms. Granger here would raise inevitable… complications, lots of different emotions."
He unfurled a roll of bandages and began dabbing dittany onto a clean cloth, working with the hands of someone who was familiar with what he was doing. Hermione followed his movements curiously, knowing that many people had picked up basic healing during the war but she was ever being surprised by who may be in that group.
"All I ask both of you to remember is that while you were trapped in this place for a manner of hours, well…. Draco has been trapped here much longer. That doesn't diminish what was done to you here, but there has been much he has had to endure as well."
Harry had stepped back to let Nott work, and she watched his expression as it fell into thoughtful consideration. Hermione herself turned these words over in her head, trying to dissect all of what her boss had just said; been trapped here, as in, still is? If this place held those kinds of emotions for Malfoy, why was he still here? Why not just… leave? God, if it was her she would've burned this place to the ground by now.
Nott worked efficiently, applying the dittany to her cuts and scrapes and following it with secure bandages. Once he reached her ribs he looked to her for permission and after taking a moment to steel herself, she nodded. Nott then withdrew his wand from it's holster under his arm and probed as softly as he could at the injured area, but even those slight jabs drew out sharp gasps and a few pained grunts as he surveyed the extent of the damage.
"Just bruised, nothing fully broken or cracked." He assessed finally, stepping back and rifling through a few of the bottles provided.
"Thankfully not nasty enough to need anything too complicated but… ah, here!" He withdrew a vial of misty violet liquid and held it out for her to take. "This will have you sorted out by dinner."
Hermione downed the vial obediently, grimacing at the strong floral taste and odd acidic undertone. After handing the empty bottle back, Nott removed the tray to her bedside table and fixed both her and Harry with a tired look.
"We've had to spend more time here than expected, and unfortunately I have pressing matters I still need to attend to today. Potter… I think it may be best if you come back with me. We can come back tomorrow, when Ms. Granger has had time to rest, to do the full briefing."
Harry tensed up and seemed about to begin to argue when Hermione clapped a hand over his wrist, directing his attention back to her. The guilt of having wasted all of their time and delayed the work a day coursed through her, cementing her determination to be the least bother from now on.
"It's fine, Harry. I'll be fine. You two should go, and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry looked skeptical, though she could see the concern behind his hesitation.
"Yes, Harry. Malfoy's house elf seemed… quite nice, and if there's anything I need I'm sure I can have her fetch you."
Mollified for now, Harry nodded and Hermione dropped her grip on his arm. He turned and trailed Nott as the other headed for the door, but paused part way.
"You send for me if there's anything you need, 'Mione." His voice was filled with meaning while he pinned her with his gaze from where he stood. "Anything. Day or night."
"Thanks Harry." She replied, trying to fix what she hoped was a small, reassuring smile to her lips as he returned his probing stare. "I will."
Finally he followed Nott out the bedroom door and closed it quietly behind him, leaving Hermione in the sudden quiet of the empty room.
She waited as the footsteps crossed the morning room beyond her door, then again at the sounds of the outer door opening and closing much more softly than the last exit. Then, once she was sure they were fully gone, Hermione sunk down into the sumptuous blankets and let the physical and emotional exhaustion of the past hour hit her fully.
Hermione reached out and drew one of the overstuffed pillows to herself and buried her face in it, trying to block out the room around her, the knowledge of where she was, and all of the memories the incident had dug out from their carefully crafted vault inside of her. And then she finally let herself cry, great heaving sobs muffled by the pillow pressed against her face.
After a few minutes of this the tears slowed into quiet hiccups, and she found herself slipping into the grip of weariness. Another moment more and she let herself succumb to the void of sleep completely.