Theo POV

There was something about magic that made things easily fixable. If something was broken, a wave of a wand could change it. I wished that worked as well on people as it did on my double bass. Hermione was not in the great hall for breakfast, and despite the fact that she was in class all day with both myself and Draco, she refused to look in my direction, let alone his. When Draco left for the quidditch field for tryouts, I took the opportunity to hunt her down. She was right where I expected her to be.

The library was quiet. She was nibbling on a sugar quill with a stack of books in front of her. It was my first time seeing her truly in her element since before the war and it nearly brought me up short. Was I really going to ruin this small piece of happiness she had found? That's when I noticed her furrowed brows, the anger with which she chewed her quill. She wasn't content as she had always been in the library, deep in concentration. She was angry. Even from my distance in the stacks I could see the sparks of magic in her fingers as she flipped the pages. I wondered if anybody else noticed, probably not. The library was practically empty. No one studied on the second day of classes. There were a few students spattered about in corners of the library, mostly Ravenclaws, but almost everyone else couldn't be bothered with reading when the weather wasn't miserable yet and the quidditch tryouts were in progress.

She stood from where she sat and stomped towards the restricted section. As a 7th year, she had access to sign out books. I watched as she signed the parchment by the door and entered. I took the chance to check out the books she had been perusing on the table.

It was quite an extensive collection of dark magic books: Soundless Spells: The Dangers of Mute Magic, The Dark Wizards Guide to Offensive Spells, Medieval Magical Torture, Dark Hexes for Dark Wizards. It went on and on, each title more disturbing than the last. I was still perusing the books when I heard the door open and the sound of footsteps. They stopped abruptly.

"A bit of light reading?" I asked her.

She carried another dark book in her hands- Dark Marks and Scars. My eyes flicked from the book to her covered arm unconsciously.

She didn't dignify my question with a reply. Perhaps she wasn't angry enough for the words. That could be resolved easily enough. She walked around me, slamming the new text on the table and taking a seat, ignoring me. I could definitely resolve that. I took a seat next to her, talking as she thumbed through the new book to a chapter titled 'Magical Brands'.

"He told me what he did."

That got the reaction that I was looking for- sparks of magic on her skin, a red tint to her pale cheeks. She looked up at me, a mixture of emotions on her face- sorrow, fear, and overlapping it all was a deep rage.

"He's still willing, you know? To let you do it again, to do anything."

My words seemed to only make her cheeks inflame a darker red.

"I-, I don't wa-, want, him to be willing. I wa-, want, hi-, him, suffering. Repeatedly," she said, speaking through gritted teeth under her breath so that our conversation wouldn't echo off the walls or maybe so Hogwarts itself wouldn't hear her confession.

Fair enough. It seemed that the two of them wanted much the same thing, though for different reasons. Could I facilitate pain on Draco, even if it meant healing for both of them? One time would have been understandable, but could I watch her do it over and over again. The idea made me sick. If Draco knew what she had planned, he would agree to it in a heartbeat. It was my choice whether or not I would watch. Except it wasn't a choice, I would never make Draco go through that alone. Draco's redemption would come at a cost it seemed, a cost for all involved. For Hermione it would cost her her pure heart, for Draco it would cost him pain, and for me it would cost the agony of watching them both suffer. This truly wasn't going to be a simple fix.

She looked abruptly away. I wasn't sure if it was shame. If it was, we didn't have room for that in this discussion. I took my chances that she would bite my hand off. The urge to touch her, sooth her, was too hard to ignore. Like it had been in the infirmary when I touched her thigh. Comforting her was the priority over my own self worth. I placed a hand on her cheek, turning her face back to mine. She didn't try to pull out of my hold. All I saw was surprise as I looked deep into her eyes and maybe something else…no, that couldn't be lust. I had to be imagining the hitch in her breath and her face pressing into my hand. I let my hand fall, afraid of getting caught up in the delusion.

"Willing and immune are two entirely different things. If your goal is to torture him, to maim him, that is what he is offering. It will hurt him regardless of his desires. You want your revenge and he will give it to you in blood, in tears, and in scars. Draco will offer his body and mind on a silver platter for you."

Fuck that, Draco would offer his soul if it kept her in his presence. Silence. Her silence clawed at me. Was she still feeling the burn where my skin touched hers? I felt it in my hand. I tightened it into a fist and released, continuing my pleas.

"It won't be like last night. If you swear not to kill him, I won't stop you. He certainly won't stop you. He wouldn't have last night. You know that's what he wants more than anything, and I know you don't want to give him that reprieve."

I waved my hand over the table.

"Obviously, you're planning to hurt him anyway. But what fun will it be doing it only once, risking the chance of being caught, when I'm offering repeat performances with no fear of punishment?"

More silence.

"Fine," she said, sharply.

Dread pooled in my stomach, mixing with a strange satisfaction at obtaining her agreement yet again.

"The astronomy tower is too big of a risk, we can't sneak out that much. It could cost us our probation. If you want to torture him, we need to do it somewhere private. What about our room? Every Friday? It will give him a chance to recover over the weekend, to hide whatever is done."

She replied only with a nod. I wouldn't risk her changing her mind. I stood, taking one book from the pile on the table, one extremely different than the others I saw. It looked to be a well loved copy of one of those muggle romances that I had seen in her room. I could feel her glaring as I walked off, clutching the book in my hand.