Chapter 42 – A dream of memories
"Granger!"
The voice boomed through the underground rooms, but to Hermione it sounded far away. All she could see was the man in her arms, who looked like a horror-movie version of himself. Covered in blood, boils and burns, he lay motionless. His green eyes were open, but lifeless.
"Why is my son crying like a banshee, you..."
Suddenly there was silence again. Hermione wanted to look up, she was sure she knew the voice, but her eyes were unable to move from where they were drawn. Maybe she cried, but she wasn't sure. Time had stopped moving on for her. Her wand lay forgotten beside her, while her hands were buried in slick red blood.
"Shit!"
Then there was movement that came into focus, and instead of all the red, she saw white blond hair. Everything came back to her and now Hermione was sure she was crying just as hard as Scorpius in the background. How could she have not heard him? His small voice sounded hoarse and was louder than ever.
"Severus could have warned me. Fuck!"
"Don't curse when your son can hear you." To advise Draco was something so normal to her, she never had to think about it. The words tumbled out of her before she had registered what happened.
The body was taken from her, but she was too focused on the new visitor now to notice it. His robes were black, like always, and flawless. His hair had been freshly shingled and had not yet dried from his shower. It was a lot shorter than the last time she'd seen him. His movements were precise and he shielded her from any further view with his body.
Severus must have sent him as soon as possible, something Hermione was grateful for. Else she would still sit here in shock and do nothing but stare. When she tried to move her limbs protested. She felt stiff and too heavy to stir.
"If you are lucid again, look after Scorpius." Draco snapped at her. For the first time today she wasn't worried or sad, she was pissed. Why did he think he could order her around? The last few hours had been hell for her and he was his usual prissy self.
"How dare you!" Hermione snapped right back at him. Before she could go into a full-out rage he cleaned the blood on her face and his tired eyes met hers.
"Look after him and I'll look after this." His voice was harsh, but the words to answer him were stunk in her throat. Draco wasn't calm, but the way he reacted to the scene, hardened and jaded, gave Hermione the shivers. How many dead had he seen, how much horror?
She could still remember when he had joined them down here the first time. The pure angst on his face, the tears in his angry eyes, the hopelessness. Now he wore a mask, something she believed Severus had thought him.
In the background Scorpius wailed and Hermione turned around without another word. She didn't know how to react to his offer to help, no matter how he had voiced it. Because she knew she wouldn't be able to do what he did for her now, to take care of the body of the person she killed, the last of her once close friends.
Entering the small room she slept in, she found Scorpius in his cot. He stood on his feet and had grabbed the lattice to balance himself. His little face was red and swollen and it made Hermione's heart hurt to see how long she had ignored him.
"Hey little man." She lifted him out of the cot and knew moments later that he needed a new napkin dearly. Taking her wand out, she transfigured the upper part of his bed into a shelf, with a changing mat on top. Scorpius always made it hard for her to lay him down, but after a year she knew how to manage him.
Pulling everything but his wellbeing from her mind she concentrated on him.
"If you want out of the dirty nappy you need to cooperate." Hermione told him as a matter of fact, and after a few more cries he stopped to kick. She never was one who believed in talking to kids in baby voice. He looked up to her and their eyes met, brown and grey. Hermione smiled down at her little buddle and he settled down.
With a practised hand she had him out of his rompers in no time and tickled his tummy. She would need to change all his clothes and maybe the bed too. The diaper was overflowed. Cleaning him up by hand she took her time to wipe away the tears too.
"Aren't you a witch?" Came the drawl from the door and the dirty, smelly napkin vanished. "That's gross Granger."
Hermione knew Malfoy stood right behind her, she could feel his warmth in her back. Rolling her eyes she went to finish what she started by hand and redressed Scorpius in a new playsuit. She ignored Malfoy to the best of her abilities, but his breath in her neck while he watched her, made her shiver.
"It's just a napkin Malfoy. Man up!"
Hermione turned around and lifted Scorpius right into his father's arms. She felt too raw to bicker with him, but it was Malfoy. Somehow she felt better by doing it, even if she would never tell him he made her feel at ease, even if it was just for a small moment.
"The day you stop being so soft Granger."
They looked into each other's eyes, brown met grey again, but this time Hermione looked away ashamed. She knew she had lost it today, something that couldn't happen with her little buddle of joy around. She wasn't just responsible for herself. That was the reason Ron was dead, the reason she killed him. A sob escaped her, but she shook herself to clear her mind. Now was not the time.
Before she could drift off into her self-loathing Scorpius opened his little arms and tried to hug her from his father's arms. As if he could feel she needed it.
Draco snorted, but took the step to Hermione to make it possible for his son to hug her. Awkward they stood together with Scorpius pressed between them, while Hermione bit her lip to keep from crying again.
"Merlin, just cry Granger. I can't have you sob all over my son once I'm gone"
Draco sounded annoyed, but suddenly Hermione found herself in his arms, with his small son in her own. His body was hard against hers, and she could feel that he must be quite fit underneath his robe. In the position she was in now she could see the oxford and the tie he wore under his robe, a perfect Windsor.
Cursing herself for thinking about something like that, after what she had done today, she confessed what happened. She didn't know what kind of reaction she wanted, but not this warm, friendly hug.
"I killed him." She whispered and a few of the tears she had held back escaped. Her anger, that had helped her to keep her other feelings at bay, had vanished.
"His hate killed him, maybe his stupidity, but not you Granger. You are a goody two-shoes. You couldn't even kill me if I suddenly attacked you."
Hermione knew Malfoy believed her to be just as he said, his arrogant inflexion told her as much. It nearly made her smile that he thought she was a good person. Her answer was nothing more than a wisp in the air, as if saying it out loud would make it more real. But it was her reality now, the plain fact that she was a murderer.
Even if it had been to keep someone else safe Ron had been her friend and ally. They had spent years at each other's side, good and bad. When he had started to drift off she had noticed it, but hadn't wanted to look into it. Hermione knew what grief could do to people, and accepted the way Ron handled it. She had decided that if it made him feel better to snap at her, she could live with it. It had been a small price to pay for all her failures.
Ginny had died because she had forgotten to give her a way out in case of emergency. Now Ron had died by her wand, because she hadn't known another way out.
"I killed him with the Unforgivable."
"What?" Draco shouted and Scorpius frightened into crying. Her focus shifted from her own problems to her charge and she glared at Draco in annoyance.
Somehow he made it easy to replace her anxieties with anger. She'd rather feel upset, than the pit of grief that tried to consume her.
"Granger, you better stop crying and talk." Draco ordered her, while taking his son back. The warmth of their embrace vanished and suddenly Hermione wished she could have kept it. No matter who he was, it had been warm and comforting.
To be in his arms had been different from the comfort she got from hugging the toddler he currently carried. They didn't get along for longer than they had to and bickered all the time, but for the first time in a long while a man had his arms around her.
Blushing Hermione channelled her embarrassment into anger, not acknowledging the underlying feelings she harboured for Malfoy since a few meetings. The way he made her feel alive and the fun she had when they argued were of no importance. They had a war at hands and it had cost them more than one fighter.
"Ron didn't die from his wounds. He died by my wand. Maybe I could have rescued him. If I had tried harder I'm sure he would be alive."
"Granger, I'm quite sure you lack any intention you need to cast that spell."
Malfoy didn't sound as self-confident as normal and she could see the doubt in his eyes.
"Most likely he bled out. You did your best. That was more dark magic than any medic witch could have healed."
Hermione was sure it was the first time Malfoy had ever tried to soothe her, and to hear it made her feel slightly better, but the guilt didn't vanish.
"I'm sure there would have been something I could have done. I need to read the books on healing again. There are counters for these curses."
She knew she rambled, but her head went ten miles a minute and now she couldn't stop herself. Had she missed a text about dark magic? Severus had given her several to help her studies, but she hadn't read anything about boils and burns. Had it been a mix of different skills she hadn't countered because they reacted to each other in unknown ways?
Hermione hurried from her bedroom back to the front where she came up short. The floor was spotless and nothing hinted at what had happened here not too long ago.