Author's Notes:

Merry Christmas everyone! :-)

This chapter is posted two days earlier due to the Christmas holidays, giving everyone has the chance to read it before the chaos of those festive days begins...

This is part two of the rescue, this time from Hermione's POV—at this point, we know what she knows about the success of the raid...

My thanks: luunascope for being such a sweetheart to read through my chapters and weed out my mistakes and typos, and to have me brood over small things for days. :-*
To Debbie, amyeco, and everone else for answering my questions and listening to my doubts and ramblings. I love you all, girls!

I do have a small and humble wish for Christmas: Comments would absolutely make my day!
If you want to make me smile over the holidays, then leave a few words—they'll be highly appreciated as always!

Now, all I have left to say is: I do hope you have wonderful holiday, and enjoy!

Chapter 18 - You're Not Real

"Softie, don't worry too much. We knew it might come to that..."

Hermione sat all curled up on her bed, shutting everything out in her mental preparation before the main fight. That bastard had set her up against her neighbour, as a next step in his attempt to break her. Death started to sound like a very acceptable option, but then she didn't want her neighbour to be stuck in this hell any longer either. "I know."

"All I can promise you now is that I'll try to give you a clean death, no suffering."

"Thanks," she whispered, hiding her face between her knees. She hated his calm voice; it irritated her beyond belief, even though she knew that he was trying to soothe her. To distract herself, she listened to the faint sounds of the first fight that was still going on in the pit; however, she noticed that there was more shouting than usual.

"You hear that?"

"What?" She lifted her head and tried to listen more closely into the labyrinth of cells that was filled with other fighters trying to do exercises, others chatting, some snoring and whatever you could do to escape boredom.

"It's coming closer..."

And then she could hear it too. It was a faint murmur at first, but then it grew louder between the other noises—it was as if more and more fighters were making noise or raising their voice. And then...

"Hermione!"

She couldn't believe what she just heard, so she turned her head towards the cell door. No one in here had ever called her name before, she was known as The Harpy, or filthy bird for that matter... It just had to be a trick her mind was playing on her!

"Hermione!"

She froze in her position on the bed, an icy shiver running down her spine when she recognised the voice that kept calling her name. "Draco..."

It could only be a trick that The Hungarian played on her mind because Draco wouldn't be the one coming here. Harry or Ron maybe, but not Draco. Not him.

"Is that your name?"

She didn't answer. Her eyes were fixed on the cell door, and she was scared to see whoever was going to arrive in front of it any moment now. Her heart was pumping faster, and she slowly balled her hands into fists, ready to defend herself in a fight if necessary.

"Over there!" a few fighters in nearby cells shouted, probably even pointing in her direction, while others were cheering further in the back.

Moments later, she heard footsteps running towards her cell—she would recognise that sound everywhere. It couldn't be him. No. It had to be a trick!

And then he was there, in front of her cell.

"Go away! You're not real!" she shouted at him as she climbed off her bed to face him. Her muscles were all tensing up, and her fingernails were digging into her palms by now.

"Hermione," Draco said once more, whispering softly. "It's over..."

"Nothing is over! You're not real!"

"Everything okay?" the neighbour asked, then she could hear him move to the front of his cell. "He's really here, Softie."

She shook her head in disbelief, but she still instinctively made a step back when she saw Draco aim his wand at the cell door. "No!"

Draco only needed a small, well-placed Bombarda to open the cell; the echo of the explosion sounded throughout the labyrinth, causing the other captives to shout. It was a cacophony of voices and noises, and it drowned her, chasing every other thought out of her mind.

She saw him step inside and get within reach—the touch of his fingers around her wrist finally snapped her out of her momentary trance. Shocked at the touch, she pulled her hand away.

"You're not real," she murmured, stepping backwards until she hit the wall. "You're not supposed to be here."

"We are all here for you, Hermione." He didn't try hiding the shock in his voice, but it was still soft, warm even. "And I'm so glad I found you."

She wanted to believe the words! Her body started to tremble, and she didn't pull her hand away when she felt his fingers gently wrap around her wrist once more.

"My lioness," he whispered, pulling her closer. "My fiery, strong lioness."

"My silver dragon." The words came out of her automatically; it had been her response to his words every night before falling asleep—no one else knew them. She never thought she'd hear him whisper them again—and now he was here, holding her!

He was really here!

Feeling the urge to hold on to him, she embraced him; she longed for the safety of his arms and the soothing feeling of his scent. His touch was a reassurance that she hadn't lost it, that her mind wasn't playing a trick on her, so she pulled him closer.

"So glad I found you..."

She could no longer hold back as he kept repeating those words, his arms tightly around her shoulders. A sob of relief escaped her when the realisation hit her fully—she didn't have to fight any longer! All that pain, all that hopelessness, it was finally over.

"Softie?" the neighbour asked again, sounding worried. "You okay?"

"Yes," she replied, only to have another sob escape. After a deep breath, she loosened her arms around Draco's waist, though she was still reluctant to let go. In the back, she could hear spells go off everywhere, mixed with shouts and cheers. They had come.

The nightmare was over.

..

Hours later, Hermione was sitting in the interrogation room at the Auror Department, facing Harry. It was late at night, and she was exhausted, but she knew she had to go through the process of giving a witness account before being able to wind down and let go of everything. At least her medical examination attested her being relatively unharmed, given the situation she had been found in. But now she had other questions on her mind.

"I'm so glad to have you back," Harry said, sounding about as tired as she felt, but with a relieved smile on his lips.

She nodded, returning the smile, albeit more faintly. Her eyes kept returning to the one-sided mirror; she simply knew that he was on the other side, with so many questions she couldn't answer. "He knows."

Harry pulled off his glasses to gain a few seconds, as he always did when trying to find the right words. "Yes."

"H-How? I mean..." She sighed. As relieved she had been in the first moment to see him, to hold him even, she knew that it had changed nothing, and that there was at least one very uncomfortable conversation waiting for her, right on the other side of the mirror.

"He figured it out, Hermione. And he didn't give up once he knew," Harry replied, putting his glasses back on; he was looking at her as if gauging her reaction. "I mean, we had an argument about me not telling him, but he never gave up."

She looked down at her hands which still bore the scars from her fights—a constant reminder of the hell she had been put through. Harry's words were hard to bear, as she had made herself believe that he had moved on, because she never once believed that he would come looking for her.

"You should really talk to him, he deserves it now more than before," Harry said, breaking the heavy silence.

She noticed his quick glance to the mirror, and her heart sank. "You know I can't–"

"I'm afraid you will have to..." He quickly brushed through his hair, trying to hide the wince. "Draco and I made a deal—don't look at me like that!"

"I don't know what you mean!" she retorted with a huff, narrowing her eyes at him in utter disbelief.

"This!" He pointed at her face, and then he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Look, he offered to help in exchange for a chance to talk to you. He wants answers, and, honestly, I would have told him everything if I had been able to–"

"You wouldn't–"

"I would have." He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed behind the rims of his glasses. "Eight years and both of you are fucking miserable. You will talk to him. Not today, but you will."

Hermione bit her lip to distract herself from the tears threatening to blur her eyes. Nothing scared her more than talking to Draco about her reasons for leaving him. What was she supposed to tell him? That she didn't mean to hurt him, as hollow as that sounded?

"Hermione, please..."

She shook her head, her eyes once more fixed on her hands.

Harry sighed, only to then pull his chair closer. Carefully, he reached for her hand. "Please. He's not angry, just–"

"Disappointed?" Her voice was a whisper now.

"Maybe. But I'm sure that you both can discuss everything in a mature way, okay?" His thumb followed the traces of her scars on her hand. "If not, I'll hex him for you..."

That made her smile briefly, and she felt a small wave of relief ebb through her body. However, she was still scared to talk to Draco because she simply didn't know what to say, how she could possibly explain herself. She was scared of his reaction. But maybe, just maybe, now that he knew about her secret, she might be able to talk about it. "Fine. I'll try and talk to him. But I can't promise you anything."

"That's fine by me. As long as you try."

She nodded again, and then she lifted her head, only to see him smile softly at her. "Can... Can we continue tomorrow? I'm exhausted, and I just want to sleep now."

He pressed his lips into a thin line, but then he agreed with a nod. "I do hope that you understand that your place is no longer safe–"

"Just place me in a safe house, then."

He squeezed her hand. "About that..."

The way he said it could only mean one thing—she wasn't going to sleep in one of the Ministry's safe houses. "Harry, no. Please, don't tell me you agreed to that!"

"As much as I'd love to let you stay in one of the Ministry safe houses, I think the place he has for you is a better option at the moment."

"I'm not staying at his... place?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It's yours. Put under the Fidelius Charm and every other ward and whatever he could think of to hide it. It's probably even safer than Gringotts."

She still struggled with the idea of Draco taking care of her. On one hand, she missed it dearly, that feeling of being able to just cuddle up to his side with a cup of tea when she felt down; on the other hand, it just felt too soon still. Too many things stood between them...

"He promised me that the place is yours, and if you don't want to see him, or anyone else for that matter, you don't have to."

"Okay," she finally said. "With the condition that he accepts it if I don't want to see him."

Harry quickly glanced at the mirror, almost like a warning for the person behind it to follow these words. "I'm sure he'll understand."

..

The Auror Department had been turned into one big waiting area, trying to accommodate the fighters that had been freed from their cells at the pit. So, when Hermione exited the interrogation room, she met a waiting line of fellow captives in the hallway, all of them wearing the same exhausted but relieved look on their faces.

"Softie..."

She looked up when she heard the familiar voice, the anchor of sanity over the past few weeks. "Hello..."

He looked just as tired as everyone else; she could glimpse a bandage around his upper body under the cover he had been given, probably still his broken rib that hadn't been treated properly in time and now needed to heal slower. "You're going home?"

She shook her head, then briefly turned her attention to the two men waiting in the background, in front of the door to the observation room. Draco looked wary while Harry just kept an eye on her, trying to stifle a yawn. "My friends don't want me to get kidnapped again."

He smiled, and the room around them lit up ever so slightly. "I just wanted to say that I'm going to miss talking to you; you're a great person."

She returned the smile and used the moment to finally have a good look at him—after all, they had been separated by a wall most of the time, only able to hear each other; there had been short glimpses, of course, when they passed each other's cell before and after a fight. He shared a few similarities with Draco, such as the pale skin, and the sharp, defined features; his hair, however, had a golden shimmer whereas Draco's always faintly reminded her of silver. And he had an aura about him that felt relaxing, but maybe it was just the familiarity of his presence.

"Softie, you're staring," he said with a light chuckle. "And your friend over there isn't looking too happy about it."

"Sorry." Her cheeks reddened slightly in embarrassment, but then she glanced over to Draco who was watching them from afar, showing an irritated pout, but otherwise keeping his distance. "It's just... We talked so much and yet this is the first time I see you properly. I mean, is that true? You're a Veela?"

"It's okay. And yes, I am."

"One of my friends is part Veela, but I've never met a male one before; I only ever heard about them in myths and legends."

He smiled softly. "Males are indeed rare enough, and we have other abilities than the females–"

"I'd love to know more!" Hermione replied with growing enthusiasm, despite exhaustion threatening to crash her any moment now.

"There will be a time for that, I'm sure." His smiled broadened, and he offered her his hand. "But it has been an honour meeting you. If you ever decide to visit me and my people, you will be welcome, as are your friends. All of them."

"The honour is mine," she replied, accepting the handshake. "And I would love to visit your people one day."

"Until then, take care of yourself."

"You too."

After one last squeeze of her hand, Hermione let go before turning around to face Draco who would bring her to her new place.

..

They had to Apparate to a side street to get to the place Draco had prepared, as it wasn't connected to the Floo Network. Once the dizziness abated and she could orientate herself again, she followed him in silence across the street.

A few more houses down, he stopped and reached into his coat pocket to produce a carefully folded note. "Read this."

She immediately recognised his elegant handwriting and let her eyes follow its curves for a moment. The note contained an address, and she did her best to memorise it. Moments later, a building started to appear between the existing houses—it felt like a déjà-vu from the War, the first time she had been shown Grimmauld Place which had also appeared out of nothing in a similar way. Although her new place looked much more inviting.

Inside, the place looked comfortable, reminding her vaguely of the atmosphere in their old shared flat; she further ventured inside until she reached what looked like the living room. When she heard him enter behind her, she turned around, a shy smile on her lips. "This place is wonderful... Thank you."

"It's yours, as long as you want to stay," he replied, hiding his hands in his coat pockets.

"I... Thanks."

"There are a few things you need to know, though." He went over to the fireplace, a beautiful marble piece, decorated with a few trinkets and pictures. "Harry agreed to keep the Floo blocked, except for a connection to his place—and mine. Although Harry will need to tell you the location first as his is under the Fidelius as well."

"And yours?"

He smiled faintly. "Same. But we'll sort that when we get there..."

She noticed the restraint in his voice; he was trying to keep calm, but she knew that it was just a facade. Gods, she could see the questions burning in his eyes, the disappointment glimmering beneath it, and yet he remained civil, even though he had every right to shout at her.

"The wards are configured to block people Apparating in, but you can always Apparate out if anything happens that might upset or scare you. It's not supposed to be another cage, but a safe place."

She nodded in understanding. "Thanks. For everything I mean."

He briefly looked down in response to her words; she heard him take a deep breath. "There's one more thing... Tibby?"

Hermione was confused for a moment until she saw the house-elf walk in, who immediately squealed happily when she saw her standing in the room.

"The Mistress is back!" With little, excited jumps, the house-elf came closer. "Tibby missed her Mistress a lot!"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the happiness Tibby showed, she had always been an excitable creature. A quick glance over to Draco showed that he was smiling too, genuinely so.

"She volunteered to help you when I told her that you might be coming back. Whatever you need–"

"–Tibby will get it! The bed is ready if the Mistress wants to sleep now, and Tibby will make a good breakfast tomorrow morning."

Hermione bent down to Tibby's level, glad to see another friendly face. "Thanks, my dear. I did miss you too, you know? No one makes better pancakes–"

"Tibby makes pancakes for breakfast tomorrow!"

With a short chuckle, Hermione straightened up again. "Thanks, Draco. You really didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to." He stepped closer, though still keeping his distance. "I told her not to Apparate around you to avoid triggering you. And, for the moment, she agreed not to leave the grounds, except for my place if you need anything, or if anything happens..."

"Yes, Tibby will take care of Mistress, just like before."

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a bad thing to let Draco care for her safety at the moment. It was still awkward, but she knew she was in good hands. "Tibby, would you mind running a bath for me? I'd give a kingdom for one now..."

"Yes, Tibby still remembers how Mistress likes it!" After another happy squeal, the house-elf ran out of the room, eager to get her task done.

Once more alone in the room, Hermione returned her attention to him. "It's been a long day for both of us, but I feel like I need to say something."

"Hermione–"

"I really appreciate what you're doing, despite the fact that I don't deserve it. Not from you at least. I... I... Just thank you." She sighed. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't get it out—at least not now.

"I missed you," he whispered, his voice cracking ever so slightly; his darkened grey eyes were fixed on her.

Her heart broke a little in response to his admission, and she had to look away. Three simple words, and yet, they implied so much more. "I missed you too. There wasn't a single day I didn't think about you, and-and I wish I could undo everyt–"

"Don't. N-Not like this." With another big step, he was close enough to stop her with placing a finger on her lips; his eyes showed a dark stormy grey. "You're right, it's been a long day for both of us; I should go now."

She wanted to stop him from leaving, make him stay a bit longer, but he was out of her reach before she could even try to grab his hand. "Draco, please. I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that."

He stopped at the door, raising his hand; however, he didn't turn around. Even from the distance, she could see him clenching his jaws, all tensed up. "I'll check on you tomorrow, see if you need anything."

Overwhelmed, and unable to say anything further without causing more pain, she let him leave. The sound of the front door being shut echoed through the place.

To keep herself from breaking down right there in the living room, Hermione went to find the bathroom, feeling the urge to submerge herself completely under water to drown the thoughts circling in her mind, and to scrub the dirt off her skin.

"Mistress... The bath isn't ready yet!" Tibby said in surprise when Hermione found her. "Where is Master?"

"He left."

The house-elf nodded and watched her sit down on the toilet lid, wiping her eyes. "Does Mistress want to be alone? Tibby can prepare something to sleep better."

Hermione nodded, her throat threatening to choke. "Please."

"Tomorrow will be better," Tibby said before she left the bathroom.

Oh, how she wanted to believe that! Hermione could no longer hold back her tears, the emotions finally getting the better of her. All she could think of was the restraint Draco had shown to keep the situation civil, and how she had still managed to hurt him without meaning to.

After a deep breath to calm down, she got ready to step into the filled tub and let herself go in the water.

Tomorrow will be better.

She just hoped that the house-elf was right.

TBC