Dead and Gone

During the war, Hermione went M.I.A. Everyone thought she was dead and after a few years, everyone moved on. Including Ron. But what happens when she resurfaces, seemingly unharmed?

Chapter Four: Taking Care of Hermione

"Sold her soul? You can't sell your soul." George said.

Ginny nodded. "Yes you can. You have to make a deal with a demon at a crossroads. You can sell it for anything."

"Why would she do that?" Harry asked. Ginny stared at Harry, waiting for him to put the pieces together. He looked up at George and Ginny once he noticed they were watching him. "What?"

"Think about it Harry." George started.

"Hermione sold her soul to a demon. You died. Then all of a sudden Hermione goes missing and you're alive again."

Harry looked from George to Ginny and shook his head. Standing up, he ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. "No. No, she wouldn't do that." Harry looked at them, beginning to panic. "She wouldn't do that!"

"It's pretty obvious that she did, Harry." George said.

Harry's jaw tightened and he took a few deep breaths to try to calm his anger. Finding that it wasn't working, he stormed down the hallway towards Hermione's room. He had to know for certain. George and Ginny followed him, but he was already across the bedroom and to her bed. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and shook her awake. At first she fought against him, trying to free herself from his grasp, but then she saw who it was that was holding her and she stopped struggling. An uneasy feeling grew in her stomach as his eyes filled with anger. He shook her a bit.

"Why'd you do it?" He asked, almost yelling.

"Harry, let her go!" Ginny said as she and George tried to pull him away.

When Hermione didn't answer, he shook her more violently. "Did you sell your bloody soul to fucking save me!" he yelled.

"Harry stop!" Ginny yelled as Harry shook her again.

Frightened, Hermione shoved Harry away as Ginny and George pulled and the three of them landed in a pile on the floor. Harry swore and stormed out of the room, leaving Ginny and George alone in the room. Ginny followed Harry out into the living room and George listened as they argued. George sighed and turned to look at the now empty bed. He sighed again. He really hated that he taught her how to apperate.

Hermione sat Indian style in front of the polished stone. George watched as she took a drink from a bottle that appeared to be fire whiskey. She gave a small hiccup and George couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. He walked over and sat down beside her. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours, the only sound being the sloshing of the fire whiskey and the small hiccups emerging from Hermione's lips. She held the bottle out to George, who took it from her shaking hand and took a sip.

"I've been having dreams." George said, taking another sip then handing the bottle back to Hermione. "About you…" George looked over at her. She continued to stare at Fred's headstone. "The first time I dreamt, I was coming to visit him and you were here. I didn't know it was you until I got a better look. Your face was covered in blood. You left a rose on his grave and walked away. Then I heard screaming." He said, still watching her.

Hermione took a long gulp of the fire whiskey.

"It was you. Then you started bleeding. A lot." Hermione glanced at him through the corner of her eye. "After a few minutes you stopped screaming and you told me to save you." Hermione took another drink. "That was the same night I found you here."

"Just a dream." she said.

"No, it wasn't. What do you want me to save you from, Hermione?"

Hermione stood up and began walking away. "I don't need to be saved. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Now why don't I believe you?" He asked, standing up and following her through the graveyard.

He watched her stumbled down the dirt path. "Dunno. But there's nothing wrong with me." she slurred and walked into a bush causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground. "You wanna help me?" She said, holding a hand to her head. "Make the ground stop running from my feet so I can walk properly."

George sighed and spooned her up in his arms. Tired, she let her head fall against his shoulder and he apperated them back to his flat. He heard a mumbled 'thank you' as he walked down the hall. He deposited her on his bed, deciding that Fred's old room was too dangerous for her in her drunken state, and went to kitchen for a damp cloth. Returning with a small bowl of warm water and washcloth, he began to gently wipe away the dirt from her face. He attempted to ignore the fact that she was watching him the entire time, but after a few moments, he sighed.

"What is it?" He asked, dunking the washcloth in the bowl of water and ringing it out.

"It's hot in here." she mumbled and began tugging at her clothes.

George looked up and his eyes widened. "No, no, no. Keep your clothes on."

At that, Hermione's face shifted into a serious pout. Looking at her jeans and heavy sweater that she'd been wearing since he found her the night before, he sighed. He dropped the washcloth in the bowl and went to his drawers. Grabbing a pair of his boxers and a tee shirt, he turned around to hand them to her. His breath caught in his throat when he saw that she had already pulled off her sweater, leaving her in only her shoes, jeans and tank top that was hiding beneath the long sleeved wool. His eyes ran over the scars that covered her arms and chest. She sat up and reached towards her feet. Struggling to pull her shoes off, she only succeeded in falling off the bed. George held in a laugh, but his smile disappeared when she sat up straight, leaning against the bed, her lip quivering. Thinking she was about to cry, he kneeled down beside her, brushing some hair out of her face. He really hoped she didn't cry. He hated when girls cried. Scooping her up again, he placed her back on the bed and waited until she laid down. She waited lazily as George untied her shoes and pulled them off one at a time, then dropped them on the floor. Leaving her socks on, he moved up closer to her head and worried his lip.

"I'm not trying anything, alright? Just helping you so you don't hurt yourself. Okay?" He said, making sure she understood that he wasn't trying to take advantage of her before he continued.

Hermione nodded, her eyes fluttering closed and George could tell that she was attempting to keep them open. His hands hovered over the button and zipper of her jeans and he looked at her to make sure she wasn't going to have an emotional breakdown. She gave a small nod telling him it was okay, and he began to take off her jeans. He pulled them gently over her legs and dropped them on the floor, beside her shoes. He closed his eyes, seeing the scars that covered her legs. He heard her move on the bed and he opened his eyes to see that she was now sitting up and had her knees pulled up to her chest and she attempted to hide her legs with her arms.

"Hermione…" he started, but she refused to look at him, mumbling something about being ugly. George shook his head. "No. No, Hermione, you're not ugly. They're just scars."

Hermione hid her face in her knees. "They're gross." She mumbled and George heard her sniff as she began to cry.

Moving to sit beside her, George wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "No they're not. They're just reminders of how strong you are, Hermione." He said, running a hand through her hair.

Once she had calmed down, George helped her pull on the pair of boxers. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of her tank top, he told her to sit up. After she continued to lay down and stare at him, he assured her that he wasn't trying to take advantage of her and obliged. Sitting up, and holder her arms above her head, George gently slipped the tank top up over her head and dropped it on the ground with her jeans. As soon as George took her shirt off, she fell back into the pillows, tired from even the slightest effort. Despite the multiple scars, George shifted uncomfortably as his pants tightened and quickly grabbed the tee-shirt he had pulled out.

"Hermione you need to sit up." He said. Noticing that her eyes were closed, he got a bit nervous. "Hermione…" he said again.

When she didn't respond, he reached out and touched two fingers to her pulse point. Sighing in relief when he felt a steady heartbeat, he awkwardly wrapped his arms around her torso and held her against him in order to keep her sitting up. She slumped against him, making him groan when she snuggled closer and he felt her breath on his neck. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to control himself. When he opened them, he struggled to quickly pull the tee-shirt over her head and arms. At last, Hermione was dressed again and George relaxed a bit. Picking up the dirty clothes on the floor, he looked around for her sweater. Seeing it on the bed, he reached over his sleeping house guest, hoping not to wake her. He was almost to the door with the arms full of laundry when he heard her mumble something.

Turning around, he stared at her. "What did you say, 'Mione?"

She struggled to and keep her eyes open, as sleep weighed heavily on her. "30 years…I was in Hell for 30 years…"

George furrowed his brow. "Hermione, you're only 21." He said.

Hermione shook her head lightly. "10 to 1." She whispered.

"10 to 1?"

Hermione nodded again. "10 years in Hell to every 1 year here."

George swallowed the lump in his throat. She'd been tortured for 30 years. No wonder she had a drinking problem. Dropping the laundry on the floor beside the door, he walked back over to Hermione and sat down on the bed. "Then my dreams about you being tortured were true. That happened to you?"

Hermione nodded for a third time. George noticed tears forming in her eyes and he pulled her into a hug. Wrapping her arms around his torso, Hermione rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes.

"I'm not strong, George." she slurred, the Fire Whiskey still effecting her speech.

"Yes you are, Hermione."

He felt her shake her head. "No…no, I'm not. I gave in." she whispered.

"Gave in? What do you mean?" He asked, looking down at her.

Her eyes stayed closed as she spoke. "Every day, for 25 years, told me that he would stop if agreed to torture others. And every day for 25 years I told him no. But I…" Hermione shook her head and her voice broke. "I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't and I…I said yes. He took me off the table and I tortured souls. For 5 years, I tortured souls…" Her voice trailed off again.

"It's okay, Hermione. No one would have been able to hold out as long as you did. You didn't have a choice." George whispered into her hair.

"I could have said no!" she said, almost yelling. George held her tighter until she relaxed again, against his chest. He felt her shake her head again. "You don't understand…"

"What don't I understand, Hermione?"

"I liked it." She began to shake as the sobs rolled through her body. "I…I enjoyed it. For 5 years, I tortured souls and I had fun…"

A/N: Again, I took this idea from Supernatural. I hope you guys liked this chapter. Don't forget to REVIEW! I REALLY wanna know what you guys thought about this chapter. I'm working on the 5th chapter right now. Hopefully I'll be updating soon.