A/N: Thank you to burungmalam who commented on the last chapter! Thank you, thank you!

This chapter is a tad short but the holidays are a little crazy, so bare with me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

As always, enjoy!

Chapter 8

Hermione stood in the doorway, starring at her mum, the rain soaking into her skin. The warm glow of her childhood home called to her, and she desperately wanted everything to be okay again.

"Hermione?" Her mum said again, "Are you alright? What happened?"

Hellen Granger pulled her daughter in, locking the door behind her tightly. Hermione stood in the entrance awkwardly, wanting to take a seat but not wanting to get anything wet.

"Helen?" Troy Granger's voice rang from the other room, "Who's at the door?"

He walked into the living room, his focus on his hands wiping his clean with a towel. paused at the sight of his daughter drenched in rain.

"Hermione," Troy breathed. He approached Hermione, throwing the towel over his shoulder, letting it sit there, "What's wrong?"

Hermione shook her head and sniffled, "everything is so messed up."

Hellen pulled Hermione to the couch and encouraged her to have a seat before taking her own, "Tell us about it."

Troy took a seat on Hermione's other side, effectively sandwiching her between the two. "Harry's been lying to me. Maybe Ginny and Ron too." Hermione dropped her head into her hands, her shoulders hunching over, "They just lied, and now he's dying."

Troy and Hellen gave each other concerned looks, "Harry's dying?"

Hermione's head shot up, "What? No!" she said, "He lied to me. I asked him if he knew why the Slytherins were following me around and he lied!" The brunette witch felt a fire ignite in her chest, "I asked him directly and he lied."

Hellen moved closer, her leg pressing against Hermione's. "Hermione, I dont understand. Who's dying."

Hermione sighed, "Someone from school."

Troy stilled, "Who?

Hermione tucked her scarred forearm against her stomach. She shook her head.

"And they think that you can help?" Hellen asked.

Hermione shrugged, "Apparently he's cursed. Harry said he has to bind himself to me— I dont understand— curses dont work that way."

Troy sat back and crossed his arm, "and youre the only one who can save him?"

Hermione shrugged again, this time with a sigh, "I dont know."

What ever Hellen was about to say was cut off by a hurried knock at the door. Troy's brows furrowed, and he moved to stand but Hellen stopped him.

Whoever it was knocked again only harder. There was a commotion outside, two deep voices hissing at each other, retorting back and forth.

"I'll get it," She said. Hellen went to the door and cracked it open, her body not relaxing when she saw who it was.

"Hi Harry," She said warmly, "What are you doing here so late and who's your friend?"

Hermione stiffened, burring her face in her hands. Her father threw his arm around her protectively.

"We're not friends, Mrs. Granger," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"We're looking for, Miss. Granger."

Lucius Malfoy.

Oh Merlin, he was at her parent's home.

"She isn't here," Hellen said, "We haven't seen her since we had diner last Sunday."

Hermione squeezed her eyes closed, trying to take in steady and even breathes.

"Would you happen to know where she might be?" Lucius spoke. Harry could be heard muttering angrily.

"No," Hellen lied, "I dont know where she might be."

There was a brief pause, "If you hear anything, please, please, inform me," there was a loud crack that reverberated through the house after Lucius had said these words.

"Thanks, Mrs. Granger," Harry whispered.

"No problem, Harry dear."

There was a second crack.

Hellen closed the door. Hermione looked up to her mother though the crack between her fingers.

"That blond man looked to be in bad shape— he looks familiar—" Hellen said, standing with her hands on her hips, her eyes squinting in concentration.

"That's Lucius Malfoy—" Hermione began.

"— You mean like that Draco boy? The one who—" Troy cut himself off, looking down at Hermione's arm.

The trio fell into a tense silence. Troy's jaw was clenched in anger, and Hellen's trembled. They both knew about what happened in Malfoy Manor, how she was tortured, and how her body was still effected by it.

It was hard to explain the night terrors and the dramatic decrease in health without telling the truth.

"He's dying?" Hellen asked, her eyes wide, tears quickly filling them.

"I think so," Hermione whispered.

"Are you going to save him?" Troy asked tensely.

Hermione turned to her father. His eyes were cold.

"That's her decision," Hellen said, "no matter what, it's her choice."

Troy's nostrils flared, "He stood there and watched her be tortured! He doesn't deserve to be saved!"

Hellen scoffed, "That's not your choice to make, Troy."

Hermione looked at her mother and whispered, "What would you do, mum?"

The young witch didnt have to ask the question to see the answer. Her mum felt the same as her dad and they both thought that she should just let Malfoy wither away.

"I think I need to help him," Hermione whispered, "I cant just let him die."

Troy sighed, "You were made of better things, Hermione," he brushed through Hermione's hair with his fingers, "much better than what we're made of."

Hellen gave Hermione an awkward hug, pulling the witch up to her feet, "Go, and tell us how it goes."

Hermione nodded and disaperated with a crack, thinking of the tall and imposing gates of Malfoy Manor.