A/N: I'm so very sorry that I haven't updated in ages. My grandfather passed away and I had to fly back to the motherland and amongst that, things have been…difficult. I'm sorry if this chapter is shit with no depth what so ever. And I might as well apologise in advance if there are any mistakes.

Don't own it.

What I really feel

My eyes won't let me hide

Ginny waited for Harry to finish in their bathroom. After Hermione and Narcissa's abrupt departure from the Malfoy Manor, her husband was reduced to silence. He just continued to stare at the door that his best friend walked out of. Ginny and Draco wordlessly agreed that they would not alert the Aurors instead they gathered Hermione's array of weapons and fled with a very stunned Harry Potter.

Once they arrived home Draco told Ginny that he would hold on to Hermione's duffle bag and would be in contact after he has spoken to his mother. More concerned about her husband Ginny absentmindedly nodded in agreement. Once the tall blonde left she found Harry in their bedroom, in the dark, sitting on the edge of their bed. She felt for him, though she knew Harry would bear the brunt of Hermione's temper, she did not think that he would have taken it that hard. She didn't know what to say to him as she sat down beside him, instead she just gently laid her hand on his knee.

He looked a lot older than twenty-five. His usually boyish scruffy hair looked more like a wig he brought off her brother Fred than his actual dark mane. The stress was evident behind his glasses and in the slouch of his shoulders.

"I should have never interfered." He whispered.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked softly.

"South America." Harry sighed. "When Hermione found out that she had to go, she wanted to take Narcissa."

"I know that." Ginny murmured quietly.

"But you didn't know that I convinced her to leave Narcissa behind." Harry deadpanned.

"Oh."

"That's what I meant by saying that I should not have interfered." Harry covered his wife's hand with his own.

"You were only looking out for Hermione." Ginny soothed. "Even when we made the unbreakable vow, your intentions were still the same, just we both knew the risks and you didn't think she would go absolutely mental over it."

"How do I make it up to her?" Harry asked so quietly his wife barely heard the quiver in his voice. "How do I make things right between us?"

"Start by going for a shower and then come to bed. It's been a long night." Ginny murmured softly. "Don't think about what is going to happen with Lucius' death or Hermione's fate. However it turns out, she is going to need time. We will just have to take one day at a time."

"She could get thrown in Azkaban over this." Harry whispered.

"Go for a shower my love." Ginny said firmly. "We will worry when we have to."

Harry looked at his wife, his rock. "What about Narcissa?"

"Hermione wouldn't hurt her, if that's what you're thinking." Ginny frowned. "But as I said, go for a shower, we will worry when we have to."

After Hermione stormed out of the flat Narcissa did not dare to chase after her. She would be surprised if the younger witch would ever speak to her again. She felt guilty for not telling Hermione, she felt ashamed for not telling the brunette and she felt humiliated by her ex-husband. If there was anyone who should have left it should have been her, not her lover. After all it was Hermione's flat.

Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she reflected over the previous events. Hermione did not know the full story, she didn't know that Lucius had abducted Draco and used their son to lure Narcissa back to the Manor. The young Griffindor didn't know that it was her who made Harry and Ginny take the unbreakable vow. And finally, Hermione didn't know that Narcissa was just trying to protect her.

If Hermione had of known that would she have reacted differently? Narcissa asked herself. Probably not, she concluded. She still would have been angry, she still would have felt as though she was betrayed by those she trusted the most.

The blonde had the tenacity to smirk almost sarcastically at herself, in how she had gone from being such a strong woman of stature to an emotional mess. Lucius finally did get the pay back he wanted even if he died in the process, she was still not as happy as she could have been. Her life had never been satisfying, there was always something lacking. Until she met Hermione, the brunette brought more liberation to the blonde then she would ever realise. She wanted to hold on to it, to savour it. Her mistake while Hermione was away, was that she let her arrogance and pride override her responsibility in cherishing what she had with the young witch, whatever it was.

What she done was something that would have been expected of her when she was married to Lucius. If someone else had of abducted Draco and she was raped while Lucius was away, it would have never been spoken about. It would have been hidden behind the façade of their perfect life. She really didn't know why she didn't tell Hermione, protection perhaps? Or not wanting the young witch to worry about something that never directly happened to the Griffindor? Or there was the slight possibility that she had taken some ways of her previous relationship into the one she was currently in. It had to be the latter and the realisation stunned her.

She used a charm to quickly refresh her face. She took a deep calming breath. She had had enough of crying. She silently decided that she would stay another night in the brunette's flat, in their bed. If Hermione came home then they could talk, more like argue. If she didn't, Narcissa shuddered, she didn't want to even think about the possibility. But if she didn't come home, then the blonde would leave.

As Narcissa lay in their bed it never crossed her mind that Hermione could face grave consequences for her actions.

"Guess that's what I get for getting involved with a Malfoy." Hermione muttered to herself. She had nowhere else to go. No one else left to talk to. She couldn't run to Ginny and Harry. She definitely wasn't going to Ron and Kingsley was out of the question. She couldn't possibly have the audacity to go to Hogwarts and seek out Minerva. She was alone, for the first time in her life. And standing at the very place she had not been to since before the war.

With her wand she opened the door to her parent's house. For a moment or so she just stood there, willing herself to go in, daring even. She had held back for so many years that in some weird way it felt impossible for her to step over the threshold. It felt as though she was facing her greatest fear. She was nervous, hesitant and scared all at the same time. How was it possible to feel so many emotions in one night? In the end she talked herself up and after what she had done earlier that night, how could she be scared of walking into an empty house?

She stepped inside the dark hallway with a lazy flick of her wand the house became a light and immediately the memories came flooding back. The house had been alive as she was a child, with the music that her parent's listened while they cooked, cleaned and relaxed. To the laughter that echoed through the walls over the dinner table. There were many innocent memories of her childhood in their home. That's why she avoided it like the plague.

She made her way into the living room, everything was still in place. The soft black leather furniture and light timbered coffee table still where it had always been. The television still in the same corner, something Narcissa would probably freak out at, Hermione thought wryly. Trying to avoid the object that would break her right down to the very core, she rushed over to her father's liquor cabinet. She opened it without hesitation and grabbed his prized 1982 bottle of Tanqueray, she unscrewed the cap and took a long gulp of the gin.

She didn't avoid it longer than she thought, after she removed the bottle from her mouth she wiped her lips with the back of her hand and let her eyes wonder the room. Her brown orbs found the photo that she didn't want to look at. Instead of moving closer, she took another gulp of the gin and eyed the saddening picture.

"Fuck it." She muttered after starring at it for a long while. She stood from the sofa and drunkenly stumbled over to the wall and ripped the photo off the wall. She used the sleeved of her hoodie to wipe the dust off the frame. Feeling like another drink she stumbled back to the sofa with the photo in her hand.

Carefully as though it were the most precious thing in the world she set the photo next to the bottle of Gin on the coffee table.

"Cheers Mum and Dad!" she raised the bottle to the photo. "Your intellectually gifted child is now a murderer!"

Hermione took another large gulp and looked back down at the photo. It was taken only moments after she was born. Her mother was holding the little white bundle of a baby looking tired but happy. Her father looked proud as both her parents smiled down at the new born. It was such an innocent moment to be captured and held for their little family. Little were her parents to know there that their one and only child would turn out to be a bi-sexual relic hunting killer of a witch.

Hermione tried to choke back the guilt. How could she be angry with Narcissa when she had done practically the same thing to her parents? Shouldn't she feel hypocritical? Did she really have to kill Lucius Malfoy? Was it necessary for her to end her childhood friendship with the most famous wizard in the world? The logical side of her brain screamed at her. It would have been rational, to talk about the situation, not go in for the kill and then ask questions later. That's what the teenage Hermione Granger would have done, she would have assessed the all facets of the situation and then made her judgement. More likely, she would not have killed Lucius Malfoy over it, she would have let the appropriate authorities deal with it.

She clenched her jaw and reached for the bottle again. Regardless of what happened to her parents, she hated what happened to Narcissa and was still outraged at what the blonde had done to hide it from her. She would have never been satisfied even if Lucius only done a stint in Azkaban as his punishment, he deserved what he got. As for the betrayal of Harry, Hermione really didn't know if she could ever forgive him. He was meant to be her friend, her brother and he kept it hidden. If Narcissa couldn't tell her then it should have been Harry.

The anger that had simmered down from the alcohol was something that she had never felt before. She had failed to protect the blonde, all because of the trust she had in her best friend. Even when she found out that the guy who had made the hit on her parents, she wasn't outraged enough to kill him. She was still the Hermione Granger that rationalised the situation. Now things had changed, she had changed, she couldn't hold back. Was it plausible for her to feel that killing Lucius was the least she could have done?

Her tired muscles were beginning to relax. She felt dirty. She was still covered in Lucius' blood and it had dried on her skin along with her sweat. She smelt and she needed a long hot shower. Instead she just slumped back into her parent's sofa in all her filth. If she had done a dirty murder, then she was at least going to wear it, she concluded.

In the end she sighed and starred at the photo again. She didn't know anything anymore. Life would have been as simple as the photo if she had not of convinced her parents in sending her to Hogwarts in the first place. Where would she have been in the muggle world? She mused. Would she have been in med school? Law school? Would she have had a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Would her parents still be alive?

"No fucking point in wondering now. Already done such a good job at being a witch." She told herself off harshly as she stared at her parents. She placed the bottle next to the photo again. "You two don't know how sorry I am."