Chapter 27

Spring 2002

Hermione was pacing before the floo for more than an hour, growing ever more worried about both Oliver and Marcus and Luna and Blaise. She didn't like this helpless uninformed feeling. She needed to put together a better communication plan between everyone. She fingered her charmed ring. Perhaps a new protean charm was in order.

Then the green flames flared to life finally soothing some of Hermione's concerns.

"Gods, I'm so sorry it took me so long to come, Hermione," Luna rambled as she came through the Floo, Blaise's hand in hers.

"Those bloody Aurors came this morning and were a nightmare. They tried to question him! He's barely speaking. They searched my house as though I have Dark Artefacts hiding around. I had to remind them several times that I was close friends with Harry. They come here tomorrow right? You'll want to prepare the men. Blaise was quite shocked, although he did say something when one of the Aurors manhandled me."

"They manhandled you?!" Hermione was horrified, "who was it?"

"Let me settle Blaise in the other room," Luna replied, walking the man into the sitting room. Hermione could hear her murmuring to him. The blond returned and looked exhausted.

"Atwater and Vergent. They are horrible arseholes." Luna sighed. "They almost broke my mother's omnioculars. I was so angry with them, but I was worried that they'd take Blaise if I screamed at them. I wanted to though. But why did you need me?"

"Oliver owled me and Marcus isn't well. I think that his overly optimistic faith in the Ministry's goodness and fair treatment of prisoners has been ground to dust."

"But I thought he said that he wasn't with us," Luna looked at her with a raised eyebrow that was so similar

"He said that when I saw him at the Yule party," Hermione nodded, "But he doesn't know much at the moment other than that he suspects there were more secret relationships than him and Marcus. He certainly has no clue about the bigger picture."

Luna nodded, but chewed on her fingernails nervously, "Do you think we can trust him?"

"Well, I'm going to see if I can help with whatever is going on and then I will try to determine that." At Luna's sceptical look, Hermione sighed, "I'm certainly not going to tell him all of our secrets without an unbreakable vow. I'm not a fool."

"I never said that you were, Hermione," Luna rubbed at her face, "Today was utterly awful. They come here in the morning?"

Luna must be upset, Hermione realised, since she was repeating herself, at least it wasn't about nargles.

Grim-faced, Hermione nodded, "I'm prepared. And I expect that it will be Harry in any case. He'll want to check up on me and make sure the boys haven't raped and murdered me."

"They are certainly far too weak for that," Luna quipped.

Hermione laughed despite herself. "They are both asleep. Let them rest will you? They were both up for a large part of the night. I already laid out all their medications and wrote out directions for the inhalers for Theo. If he gets scared and fights you just stop and I'll give it to him when I get back."

"Any improvements?" Luna asked as she headed into the kitchen to start the kettle.

"Incremental," Hermione answered, following her, "but yes. I'm feeling a bit more hopeful."

"That's good," Luna said, as she looked in the pantry for her favourite tea. "You should go though. I'm sure Oliver has been pacing a hole in the floor waiting for you."

Hermione nodded and was off through the flames.

...

Hermione was not surprised to find Oliver as frantic as she had been earlier waiting for Luna. His eyes looked haunted.

"What the fuck happened in that prison Hermione?!" Oliver yelled without preamble, "He barely fucking knows me. He looks through me like I'm not even fucking here!"

Marcus looked like a thin ghost of the young man that Hermione remembered from the war. Like Theo and Draco he was clearly malnourished. And he might be unresponsive in a lot of ways, but he flinched everytimeOliver yelled as though he expected to be struck.

Hermione felt her rage inside of her like a caged beast. Were all of the prisoners who had been released like this?

"Oliver, lower your voice. You are scaring him. Marcus, it's Hermione, do you remember me?," She looked over at the man who was sitting on the couch, "Oliver isn't going to hurt you. We are just going to go in the kitchen okay? If you need us just call."

She grabbed Oliver by the wrist and dragged him into the kitchen, "What in Godric's name, are you doing, Oliver? Are you trying to traumatise him further?"

Oliver picked up a coffee mug and threw it at the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Now that really wasn't helpful."

"They broke him, Hermione. I trusted - I trusted the Ministry. You- you told me I was a fool, but I trusted them. I trusted them. And they turned the man I love into a husk of himself. I-I don't know what to do! How to help him! Tell me what to do!" Oliver sat down hard in one of his kitchen chairs, causing it to scrape across the tile floor.

Hermione sat down next to him, "Malfoy and Nott are just as bad. And Zabini. I haven't heard from Daphne yet, but I can't imagine Goyle is any different. All were starved. I've just barely gotten a handful of words out of Malfoy and Nott. And they never used to shut up."

His frenetic energy seemed to leave him in the space of a breath and Oliver blinked at her, "Malfoy and Nott are at your house?" A look of dawning realisation swept over his face, his eyes flickering towards the other room where the love of his life was sitting.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Not enough parole supervisors you know. I volunteered to take on two."

"Did you now?" Oliver looked thoughtful. He seemed to be getting a hold of himself, but his face was still flushed and his breathing was a bit erratic.

"I did what was necessary, just like I did during the war. Just like I always do," She stood up and looked toward the cabinets, spotting what was needed, Hermione pulled out a dusty bottle of Ogden's and two less dusty tumblers.

She poured Oliver a double and one for herself as she could use it, honestly. Handing him the glass, he took it with a shaking hand.

"Thank you," Oliver nodded, pushing his auburn hair back out of his eyes, "I just never imagined it would be like this when he was released. I thought he would be free, but he's still trapped there or some part of him is."

Hermione nodded, "Did he just get dropped off today?"

"Yesterday. They said they brought him last for whatever reason. It all seems very arbitrary to me. How long have Malfoy and Nott been with you?"

"Since Friday evening. My one week inspection is tomorrow. Luna's was this morning which is why I was late. The Aurors were," she paused and took a sip letting the whiskey burn down into her, "unnecessarily unpleasant to her."

"But why? We had to be the most clean of the good guys to get these probation supervisor positions. We all fought on the winning side, well except, did Daphne Greengrass get Goyle?" Confusion warred with anger on Oliver's face.

Hermione knew he was struggling with how the Ministry he had worked for and believed in could have done this to his beloved. Hermione had expected them to be in bad shape, because she didn't trust the Ministry. The Ministry had of course outdone itself and damaged her boys even worse than they ever imagined.

Shrugging, Hermione replied, "Her family was neutral in the war and she's now one of the chief barristers for the Wizengamot. I think her approval was easier than mine. Sacred 28 and all that. But the Auror department hates Death Eaters and we have them in our homes. That's enough reason for them to demean Luna, nearly break an heirloom of her mothers, search her house for Dark Artefacts, leave Draco and Theo out in the bleeding rain while they had pneumonia while I signed fucking forms. Theo could have died without treatment that they clearly had no plan to provide." Hermione was more and more angry by the end of her tirade, but then she was stopped by her anxiety. Letting Oliver know too much before she was sure of him might mean either she had to obliviate him, always risky, look at poor Harry these days, or endangering a complex operation that had taken years to put into place.

Bloody hell. Had she gone too far? She searched Oliver's face for any sign that he

"They kicked him," Oliver whispered, staring into his empty whiskey glass."Before they had me sign the paperwork. One of them punched him and then when Marcus folded like me playing poker with the Weasley twins, the other one kicked him over and over in the stomach. Then- Then the same auror told me I needed to make sure he understood his place - his place, Hermione - even though he had been released. His place is here, with me, in my bed, in my life, his hand in mine, fuck we've been together since Hogwarts days." Oliver rubbed his forehead, his elbow propped on the table. "One of them was the worst, he-he said that because Marcus was taller than me I needed to put some fear into him properly you know before he had gotten too comfortable. Then-then he kicked him one more time." Oliver started to weep. Hermione stood and hugged the now sobbing man.

She wished that she could give him more comfort than this, but It was nice to hug someone like Oliver that the bond didn't negatively react to.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with the Auror Department and the DMLE, Hermione? You worked there," he pulled back and there were tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, "be serious with me? How could they do this?"

Hermione thought she saw the desire to get revenge burning in the depths of his red-rimmed eyes and decided to take a risk. She leaned back into her seat, dropping the embrace.

"It's corrupt and biassed. There is little to no accountability for Aurors. People are killed in custody and during arrest all the time. I'm a curse breaker and I have an Auror partner and Pucey is alright, but he knows more than anyone about shades of grey. Most of the Aurors are dirty and engage in inappropriate acts. They are quite proud of themselves in the confines of their department. The Minister's office is complicit and the Wizengamot is controlled by a handful of families because they neglect to inform people born after the first Wizarding War that they even have a seat, but let's add that Malfoy, Nott, and Marcus all have family seats and could be voting members. None of the Weasleys take their seat. If Arthur doesn't want to do it, then Bill or Percy should. Potter doesn't sit his. Malfoy is heir to the Black seat unless you could add Teddy Lupin who is four, because Andromeda was disinherited. The Parkinson heir is still in Azkaban. He wasn't considered low risk due to the vile nature of some of his crimes against Muggles. Pansy has been missing since the final Battle, so no Parkinson on the jury either. They've systematically taken over the government."

Oliver was a very intelligent man even after a couple of shots, and his face quickly turned to horror. "And they did it in clear view of the world and no one noticed, but you, Hermione."

"Haven't you heard of the Brightest Witch of Her Age?" Hermione finished her shot, "I hate that title and Golden Girl. So obnoxious. The Ministry wants to parade me around like a poster child for post war reconstruction, but I'm not certain I like the plans they are working on."

Oliver nodded his assent to that, his chin in his head

Hermione decided to take the plunge and let Oliver all the way in. "And I will be completely honest with you Oliver. I want revenge. Someone should pay for what they've done to all the so-called junior Death Eaters. You know as well as I that Marcus took the mark under duress and never hurt anyone if he could help it. He was just trying to survive. Same as us."

"You don't have to sell me on Marcus not deserving prison. It's fucking madness. I tried to put a good face on it. He only got five years. On muggle shows husbands go serve five years in prison all the time, but they don't come out like this. It sounds like Theo was quite sick. Marcus isn't sick but he's injured. I had to tape his ribs. Thank the gods and Madam Pomfrey that I know a little sports medicine and spells. He's in bad shape, Hermione, but I felt nervous taking him to St. Mungo's. I was worried they'd say he was too unwell and keep him in the Janus Thickey Ward. They can do that, you know, if the person is declared a danger to the Wizarding community, they can do it without the witch or wizard's consent…I've been worried that-" Oliver stopped talking as though he heard himself.

"It's all deeply corrupt and I …did realise it, didn't I? Bloody fucking hell," Oliver pinched the brim of his nose. He looked up to Hermione with cold determination in his eyes. "Yes, someone needs to pay. This was not why we fought in a war."

Hermione patted his hand comfortingly and said, "We are going to make them all pay."

"As long as I can also get Marcus back to full health, I'm all in," Oliver's voice slipped a little into a higher tone, and Hermione was sad for all the masking he had to do in his day to day life. The Wizarding World was quite behind the Muggle World in terms of dealing with homophobia. It was preferred that it be kept discreet. Discreet could have been Oliver Wood's middle name.

"You understand my own priorities completely." Hermione couldn't argue with a man who had the same goal as she did. Things could not move more forward in the larger plan until the boys were recovered. Their health had to come first. If they got revenge just to lose someone they loved.

"What's the next step?" Oliver questioned.

"You and Marcus come to my place and you'll swear an Unbreakable vow," Hermione answered. "Alternatively, I could obliviate you." She tried to sound nonchalant, but she had brought her emergency wand just in case, and it was disillusioned and near at hand.

"The former, I think," Oliver quipped, "let me grab my giant man and a coat and we will be along."

"You'll have to come with me in order to get through my wards. You wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of them," Hermione confided. Her smile was confident rather than sheepish.

"Damn, Hermione. Like that?" Oliver rubbed his hands together and nodded.

"I protect what's mine." Hermione stated her mind on the two men she had left snuggled in the bed together. She wished she was home with them now.

...

Theo was the first to wake up and as he sat up in the bed, he felt the warmth of a hand on his leg. It felt like so long since anything had been warm. He lifted the covers and there was a large man's hand with long elegant fingers, but it was too thin. It didn't look right.

The light in here was so bright. Could it really be that he wasn't in his cell anymore? He'd imagined a lot of things in Azkaban, but most of them were places he had already been, things he had done, the touch of his beloveds as he remembered it or wished it had been. He hadn't made up an interlude of whole cloth before.

Hermione had been here. He'd held her, smelled her hair. She had been real, or at least he had thought she was. The fever of his illness seemed to finally be abating a bit, though his head was still a little fuzzy. His chest ached like he'd been running for hours. Looking around the bedroom, he doubted that he had been running. He ran his hands over his body, he seemed real and not dead if far too thin and covered in several more scars than he remembered last time he had seen himself clearly. The cells were always so dim. He couldn't see much in them. This room in contrast was bright and airy.

His hair was too long and it was itching his neck. He needed to trim it.

Was he really out of Azkaban?

He thought that the most telling possibility was that he was no longer in utter silence. He could hear the sound of himself shifting on the sheets, Draco's breathing, someone (not Hermione though) singing in the next room. He didn't recognize the voice.

Where was Hermione?

If this was a delusion she was the best part, if she wasn't a delusion then she must have moved heaven and earth to get them free. Theo's head hurt. He tried to get up from the bed, he was so thirsty, but his legs shook too badly so he gave up. Laying down and nuzzling into Draco's chest, Theo kissed each line of the sectumsempra scar before his throbbing head and exhaustion again sent him into the sweet abyss of sleep.

...

Draco felt Theo rubbing his face on his chest and light kisses from his lips across his torso. He laid perfectly still so as not to disturb the perfection of the moment. The fear that all of this was madness inside his mind intruding on his every waking moment even as he kept his eyes tightly closed.

Theo's arm snaked around Draco's waist as his breath deepened but still Theo wheezed and coughed, his body shaking like a leaf each time. Theo was ill, but was he ill in Draco's arms or in the cell next door.

That was the piece that left Draco cold.

Draco couldn't see Hermione from his vantage point in the bed. Had she finally disappeared from the delusion? Everything else was here except for her, which made him uncomfortable.

"Theo, are you really here? Because she is missing, Hermione. Hermione is supposed to be here. She was here when I fell asleep." Draco's voice was hoarse and raspy. It hurt him to push out the words. Theo slept on though and Draco wrapped his arms around him as well, warm in the cocoon of blankets that smelled like flowers and women's sweat.

Does that mean Granger is real?

Does that mean that they were really free finally? After all this time?

He didn't know for sure and the uncertainty was killing him.