Summary: Draco was in charge of managing Hermione during her time in the cellar. It was a good form of torture for him, but it didn't stop him from wanting to make things right.

Rated: T

Genre: General

Warning Tags: Abduction; Torture; Hurt no Comfort

If Only She Knew

There was nothing more he could have wished for in that moment but to take Granger and disappear somewhere safe and secluded until it was all over. The others escaped less than a day ago. Potter, Weasley, the wandmaker, the goblin, Lovegood—all of them were gone. But somehow Draco's mother got a hold of Granger while they were in mid-Apparation and pulled her out instead of getting sucked in herself. Bellatrix's dagger made it through the Apparation, unfortunately, and Draco knew both actions had traumatic results.

Someone on the other side got a dagger stuck to their person, and Granger—who was now in the cellar recovering—got so badly splinched Draco was surprised his mother managed to stop the bleeding and spare her life. Her arm looked as torn up and mangled as if a wild dog got a hold of it, and even with the dittany trying to seal some of the interior wounds, they still had to heavily bandage it.

Draco entered the cellar, wand trained on Granger, who appeared to be sleeping. His other hand held a small tray of bread, plain rice, and water. The light from his wand barely showed him her figure as he approached, a chill snaking down his spine. The cellar was always so dark and cool. He felt content that she was still asleep and directed his attention at the reddening bandages on her right arm.

She moved then, startling him enough to take a step back. Her glare was menacing, and Draco was glad she had no wand in hand and was incapacitated enough to do any physical harm to him.

"What did you do to deserve the punishment in tending to the Mudblood, Malfoy?" Granger spat, eyes narrowing at him.

He was surprised she was awake enough to be so coherent but wasn't taken aback by her verbal attack. She had always despised him, and he despised her, but no matter how much he hated her and what she was, he never intended for it to get this far. Knowingly prepping her to be tortured again and then ultimately die made his stomach churn. The stint with the Basilisk was naive and stupid; he realized that now.

Even his clever plan to mess with her in sixth year before the stress got to him was bothering him. The joy and amusement he gained from outsmarting the brightest witch of their age was a childish act to feel better about himself. If only she knew what she had done for him then; she'd never forgive herself.

Draco dared not speak in fear of letting it slip as to why he was providing small vials of pain relief and dittany potions with her rations. He made sure she got a good look at the labels before placing them down on the tray and quickly leaving, not turning his back on her until the door was securely shut.

Draco let out a full breath and pressed his back against the bars. He could only hope that she didn't figure out their plan to make her recover just enough to endure more torture and anguish.

A few days passed like this. Draco entered the cellar once in the mid-afternoon to give Granger the same tray of rations and vials of potions without a word. She was silent during their second meeting, but it didn't last. The questions came in a calculated wave that she ultimately answered herself after a few minutes the following day. Draco was careful to not speak; he knew if he did, he'd be as good as dead. He did, however, find himself oddly lingering a little longer each day just to listen to her answer her own questions, but at the same time, he knew this was a dangerous threshold to tread.

Granger reluctantly watched him redress her arm after slathering a paste over it.

The mangled fleshy swirl was all too familiar for her to conclude what happened during her hazy consciousness when Harry came to the rescue.

"I was splinched in the escape…" Granger muttered, giving a stern shake of her head while placing her free hand on her forehead.

At first, it looked like she was cradling a headache, but Draco had seen her do this before in the library; she was scolding herself. When she redirected her questions toward him, he made sure to leave before he suffered a slip of the tongue.

"Say something! Please," she snapped on the fifth day, and Draco found himself swallowing hard at her insistence and odd politeness.

She was starting to yearn for conversation, wanting someone to talk to, even if it was him. The scene of him confronting her in the library one afternoon in sixth year where he had done the same came to mind. He talked aimlessly at her for a few minutes while Granger actively ignored him until he spoke to her directly. He needed help then, and he tricked and deceived her to get it. She needed help now, but he was in no safe position to offer it.

Voldemort would want to get ahold of her soon, but Draco noticed that she hadn't been taking the potions based on how her arm was not healing with the help of dittany. She also appeared to wince when she moved, so her pain was not being managed, either. She figured it out early, and he was sure he would find the shattered vials off in the corner somewhere.

"Speaking is dangerous," Draco finally half-whispered.

"Don't you trust yourself?"

"You don't," he deadpanned, and her expression changed at that comment.

He tilted his head slightly, nodding it to the furthest dark corner. "I know you've been discarding the potions. They aren't poisoned."

Draco watched as her expression was blank for a moment. She was thinking. If she wasn't careful, she'd be cutting her death sentence too close for his own comfort. He had a plan, but it had to be done extremely carefully.

"I know what you are trying to do and it won't work," Granger stated rather confidently. "You can take me to him whenever you wish. I don't fear death."

The harbored guilt reared its ugly head as Draco promptly left. If only she knew what was in store for her. If only she knew what secrets he was keeping from her. She wouldn't want to seek conversation if she fully understood her involvement in finding those books on repairing magically built objects.

Draco lasted seven days.

"He is going to get the information that he desires out of you regardless of how much you resist," Draco said bluntly after giving her the rations and potions. "Might as well take these potions to keep yourself from suffering for as long as you can."

Granger eyed the vials apprehensively, and Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes at her doubt and suspicions of poison. She sucked in a breath and accepted the tray. "You said that I shouldn't trust you."

"You shouldn't," he confirmed. "I have deceived you before and you never realized it."

Her eyes narrowed, appearing to file through her memories to recall the unpleasant moments exchanged between them. "What are you talking about?"

Draco got to his feet, knowing he had stayed too long. "Nothing. I just hope that you pay better attention this time."

He left without another word, knowing that he needed to keep this plan of his out of the front of his mind as best as he could in order to protect himself and his family. And to protect Granger. He needed to get her out of there, but Draco knew the intensity of Voldemort's Legilimens could break through his own Occlumency. He really hoped she was competent enough to follow a set of heavily coded instructions.

Fooling Granger in sixth year to help him obtain the books he needed to mend the vanishing cabinet was a little too easy, Draco decided. It left him wondering why she even bothered doing it. What motive did she have behind helping someone she despised and her best friends were very suspicious of? Was it because he claimed it was for his mother? Was it because he appeared to have a caring side? What did she see to agree to his bizarre request?

The urge to tell her the truth about that day nagged at the back of his head. It would be a useful tool to help prep her for Voldemort, break her spirit and plague her with guilt that she played a hand in Dumbledore's demise. If she had never found those books for him, he'd have been dead in the water from the beginning.

Thankfully for him, he didn't have to say a single word to Granger for her to finally figure it out. She asked her questions and worked through them herself as she processed the chain of events.

"H-ow could you?" she snarled, throwing the tray at him he deflected magically. "You really do live up to what Harry and Ron say you are! You rabid monster! How could you—ho-how could I?"

She covered her mouth as the shock settled in. "You… you made me an asset and I didn't even…"

The scream that she released had Draco back out of the cellar and secure it firmly before anything drastically happened. The magical energy within her was radiating with anger, and he knew that she was more than capable of harnessing it if she really wanted to. He needed his mother; she could steer Granger from this fit of rage. He also needed to get her out of there; the guilt-driven need to somehow correct this mistake would eat him alive if he didn't act on it.

Draco silently wished she didn't know, and had never found out the truth. It made his plan of her escape even trickier now. There was no way Granger would consider trusting him. If she allowed her doubt and apprehension to take over when she found the wand laying within arms reach on the other side of the cellar door, she would be as good as dead—as well as any others she tried to protect.

He could only hope she would still cooperate. If only she knew...

Originally Written For:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)

Monthly Challenges for All

The Houses Competition

Word Count: 1,708

Originally Written: October 2019