Chapter 7

Bedtime

Shoving down her rage and tears, slowly and carefully, Hermione washed both her men's hair. She pushed the envelope a handful of times, just wanting to see if she could elicit a reaction from them. Her knee between Draco's legs, leaning forward so that his lips hovered over her exposed skin, her hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. She searched his face for some kind of awareness of her, of the bond, but his eyes were closed and his face impassive and the only sound coming from him was the rattling of his chest as he breathed. The bond thrummed slowly, but she knew his soul was still in there, but the flame of him was distant and she couldn't reach it to pull him back to her.

She repeatedly cast teeth cleaning charms on both of them, but the damage to their once perfect smiles was still evident. She cursed Azkaban all over again as she wondered if they'd eventually need dental work. She wouldn't be the slightest surprised if they did and with the lack of dental care in the wizarding world, she'd have to take them to a muggle dentist. That wasn't an option until she had them back permanently, though; she couldn't take them out in their current conditions, the potential that harm could come to them was too great and besides it was a risk she wasn't willing to take. Maybe there were stronger healing charms for teeth? Something to research might give her some purpose. Malfoy Manor might have some useful texts, but she'd have to owe a favour to Harry to get access. He would certainly get suspicious at some point.

She turned towards the other man in the tub and washed Theo's hair, delicately working the thick curls that were so like her own and choked back a sob at the mats she found. His hair had grown longer than she'd ever seen it, she gently ran her fingers through them again and again, both ridding his head of the dirt and trying to show him with her touch how much she'd missed him. The only reaction she managed to get from him were silent tears running down his cheeks and a small gasp when she first touched him - the frisson of the soul bond tingling between them - strained under the pressure of three years apart.

Just as she had with Draco, Hermione reached out with her magic, searching for her bond with Theo. It took much longer than she'd like, but the unsteady beat was there, desperately hanging on. Try as she might, her subsequent repeated whispering of his name drew no response. She wiped his tears from his cheeks and opened her mouth to say something, anything to the two of them and found she had no more words.

She rinsed their hair, using magic to shield their eyes and pulled the chain that released the water in the huge tub. Using the shower extension that she'd added, she rinsed herself and them off one more time with warm water as the filthy water drained away. She could give them a bath everyday and they'd probably still carry the filth from Azkaban on them.

Watching the grime circle the drain, she poured herself another glass of wine and swallowed it in one long drink, the sound of her swallowing and the water going down the drain simultaneously drowning her thoughts for a moment. The alcohol helped to ease the tightness in her chest, but it was still crushing.

She left the wine glass and bottle sitting on the floor and turned to the two men still seated in her tub. Even naked and wet, they didn't respond to the cold air of the bathroom. Hermione cast warming and drying charms on both Draco and Theo before slowly leading one and then the other up the steps and out of the tub.

On the counter, there were two sets of matching pyjamas: green silk drawstring pants, a matching button up and black briefs and undershirt. Everything was going to be far too loose on their emaciated bodies; Hermione couldn't hide from the truth. The two of them had been starved to near death and her blood boiled at the thought. In other times Draco would have been horrified by even the idea of matching outfits with either of them, but he and Theo had been in matching Azkaban uniforms for three years and it would be hypocritical for them to complain about silk. She didn't share her wit aloud with them, because she thought the lack of responding banter might break her heart irreparably.

Theo let out a wracking cough as she pulled the undershirt over his head and she shuddered at the wetness of the cough. She hoped she had some muggle cough medicine somewhere in her cabinets. She directed him to put on the underwear and pants and he followed the instructions without acknowledging her.

Maybe I should have dressed him too, if only for more excuses to touch him. Maybe skin on skin enough it would breathe life back into the bond.

So she stroked Draco's legs as she put on his underwear and pants, gently touching his arms too thin as she helped him raise them over his head. Every movement she made, slowly and methodically, begged the soul bond to perform a miracle. She ran her hands lovingly over his Dark Mark, his Azkaban neck tattoo, his Sectumsempra scars, anything she thought would draw a reaction, but nothing did.

Taking them into her room, she guided the pair to the bed and had them sit on the side. Still, they remained unchanged.

Hermione sat behind them, her own brush running through each of their hair. Draco's was easily done with a quick drying charm over it before guiding him to the left side of the bed to sleep. Theo's hair took longer and when she finished, she turned and was surprised to see Draco staring at her while she brushed out their love's hair, but when she whispered, "Draco?" he rolled over and looked away. She couldn't help but shake in barely contained grief, her lip trembled as she slowly continued to work through Theo's curls.

"I think you need a haircut Theo, your hair is in bad shape." She spoke aloud, "maybe I can get someone to come in a week or two to do it." Again, there was no response from the brunette beyond the rattling breaths he took.

She gently tucked Theo into the right side of the bed before crawling to the centre, between her two soulmates, right where she belonged. Draco's back was to her still and she could hear his unhealthy breathing level out as sleep pulled him under. On her other side, Theo stared blankly at the ceiling for a few minutes, but soon his eyes drifted close and he too was asleep. The rasping of his breath gripped her heart in paroxysms of worry, she'd have to call for a healer tomorrow. Should she call a Muggle doctor? There was no telling what was wrong and the last thing she needed was for them to get worse. What if a healer reported that they were too ill to be in her care? No, a Muggle doctor it would have to be. Theo and Draco needed to avoid drawing any notice from the Ministry as much as possible.

Their weak breaths and coughs were loud in the silent house and Hermione's thoughts raced. She reflected on how badly treated they might have been, but it had never occurred to her that they would be in this poor condition. At the very least, she'd expected their bond to recognize her, but their conditions were so poor that the magic was weak, strained. Their magical cores were probably depleted on top of their magic being blocked. Perhaps if she could free their magic, their health would improve.

Gods, how had they gotten to this point? Kingsley had swore the Dementors were gone, but she knew him to be a liar when it suited his interests.

But even worse still — what if Kingsley hadn't lied. Was it possible that other wizards or witches had done this to them? The thought made Hermione's stomach churn. What kind of twisted sadist would do this to one human being, let alone two of them?

No matter how it had happened, it was going to be up to her to bring them back. Hermione felt like a Dementor was lingering in her bedroom as she listened to them struggle to breathe. As the night dragged on, she wondered if there was a way to bring them back. What if they never responded to her again? To each other? What if they were so broken that they were lost forever?

What if she broke, too? How long could she survive seeing them in this state? Hermione's tears began to trickle out of her eyes until she was sobbing silently. Her tears soaked her pillow until she fell into dreams of a long ago sparkling night of dancing in the Room of Requirement.