Hermione awoke the next morning to an uncomfortable dampness seeping into her left side. Disoriented, she blinked against the pale morning light filtering through her curtains, only to feel a sticky warmth clinging to her skin. Jolted fully awake, she threw back the covers to reveal a crimson stain blooming across her bandage. The blood had once again, soaked through the bandage and had begun to spill onto her sheets in jagged, ominous shapes like some morbid watercolour painting.
"Damnit," she said under her breath, climbing out of bed and reaching for her wand. She cast a quick scourgify on her sheets which set them back to their pristine state but her arm wasn't to be fixed as easily.
As Hermione paced to the bathroom the damp bandage shifted uncomfortably against her skin. The stone floor was cold beneath her bare feet as she padded quietly towards the bathroom. Theo's bed in the common space was empty and the darkness from underneath Malfoy's bedroom, indicated that he was still asleep. As she reached the bathroom door, she pushed it open and hurried inside. The mirror above the sink reflected her pale face, strands of her wild hair sticking to her damp forehead. Ignoring the signs that her body was beginning to betray her, she began unwinding the blood-soaked bandage, wincing as the fabric tugged at her skin to reveal the angry wound beneath.
Hermione discarded the ruined bandages and pulled out her bag of supplies from under the sink. She cleaned the wound as quickly and carefully as she could, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked. The sharp sting of the dittany made her bite back a gasp, her reflection frowning back at her with a mixture of determination and exhaustion. She muttered a healing spell under her breath but it did little to ease the pain. The wound was too severe, too stubborn. She could only do her best to alleviate some of the symptoms and cover the evidence with a fresh bandage.
After splashing some cool water on her face and running a brush through her hair, Hermione turned to leave the bathroom. But as she cracked open the door, she froze.
"That's a concerning amount of blood, mate," it was Malfoy, his voice tinged with a surprisingly genuine amount of concern.
"I think that's a pretty normal amount of blood," Theo returned. Hermione could hear an er of hesitation in his voice, as though he was in the process of coming up with a lie.
"A normal amount of blood?" Malfoy questioned incredulously.
"You know," Theo prompted. "Girls… bleed…" His voice trailed off and Hermione groaned internally at what Theo was suggesting. But unless she wanted to spin yet another lie about a potion's accident, she was going to have to go with it.
"Scourgify," she cast from the bathroom door, notifying the Slytherin boys of her presence as the droplets of blood receded into thin air.
"Hermione," Theo greeted, clearing his throat. "Morning."
"Good morning," she returned, stepping out of the bathroom and walking casually back to her room.
"Alright, Granger?" Malfoy asked as she passed him.
"Perfectly," she responded. "Cramping a little but that's just part of being a girl. Isn't that right Theo?" Theo blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. "Oh, Malfoy," she continued, diverting the conversation from her bodily functions. "We should organise a time to meet and put that proposal together for McGonagall."
"No need," Malfoy dismissed. "It's already done."
"What?" Hermione responded, surprised. "It's been twelve hours."
"I did it last night," Malfoy explained. "Couldn't sleep."
"Right…" Hermione responded.
"I'll leave it on the table for you to check," Malfoy asserted. "Change whatever you want. I'll take it to McGonagall on Friday."
And with that, he walked over to the table and plucked a piece of bacon of the plate of food Theo had brought from the Great Hall. Hermione's eyes flicked to Theo's and he shrugged haphazardly, walking over to join his friend for breakfast.
By the time Friday rolled around, Hermione was due to meet Theo in the library to continue their research. She had left the Christmas party proposal for Malfoy to deliver to McGonagall, having only made one change. Where Malfoy had insisted that every student must bring a date from a different house, Hermione had softened the role, allowing students to attend either with someone from another house or on their own. She couldn't predict how the rule would be received, especially given that there were existing couples within the same house – but she hoped that the allure of a festive celebration would overshadow any bitterness surrounding the rules.
"We have a problem," Theo said as Hermione arrived at the library, his voice sounding genuinely concerned.
"Nice to see you too," Hermione responded sarcastically, taking the open seat in front of him.
"Right," Theo coughed. "How was your day Hermione? Were classes fun? Did you get any new assignments? Read any good books?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, mostly, yes and no."
"Great, so are we good to go?" Theo questioned, holding up the same book he had been reading when Hermione walked in. It has a deep blue coloured cover with silver writing and she briefly thought that it looked familiar.
"You were saying?" Hermione pressed, eager to continue their research. Her arm had shown next to no improvement over the last week and she was desperate to find something, anything that would give her hope of a cure.
"Here," Theo stated bluntly, sliding the blue covered book in her direction. It was open to a page titled Cursed Objects: Identification and Classification. Hermione read the page carefully, her face contorting into a frown as she realised what the book was indicating.
"We need the dagger," she said dejectedly, sitting back into her chair. Theo nodded and sighed heavily as he retrieved the book.
"It makes sense," he shrugged. "We can't even begin to understand the kind of dark magic embedded in your skin without analysing the object that cursed you in the first place."
Hermione released a shaky breath, willing herself to ignore the sharp sting spreading though her arm – a pain that only seemed to intensify at the mere mention of the item that caused it. "Theo, I have no idea where that dagger is."
"I had a bad feeling you were going to say that," Theo replied, his tone laced with disappointment. Hermione was caught off guard by the sincerity of it. She wasn't sure she'd go so far as to call Theo a friend, but they had been spending more time together lately – more than she'd realised. It hadn't occurred to her just how much he truly cared about this. "When was the last time you saw it?"
Hermione paused, reflecting on the strange chain of events that had led her to impersonate Bellatrix Lestrange using polyjuice potion. "Gringotts, I think," she murmured. "I know for certain I had it when we were there but it could have been lost anywhere between Bellatrix's vault and the lake."
"You really lived a completely different life last year," Theo observed, a reminder of how little people truly knew about her seventh-year experiences.
Hermione sighed dejectedly. "Honestly, Theo, I wouldn't even know where to start."
"We could ask Draco," Theo offered carefully. "It belonged to his aunt… maybe his mother knows where it ended up?"
"Absolutely not," Hermione replied firmly. "I'm barley comfortable with you knowing about this. There's no way I'm telling him."
"Fine, fine," Theo said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Your arm, your rules."
"Thank you," she replied, her tone softening. "Now let me see that book again – maybe there's something else in it that could point us in the right direction."
Theo slid the blue covered book across the table. Hermione picked it up, this time inspecting the cover more carefully. Her fingers trailed over the name of the author before tapping thoughtfully on the corner. Her face skewed in concentration before she finally spoke again. "I think I recognise this author," Hermione stated, now trying to decipher why the book looked so familiar. She turned to the first page and glanced over the publishing date – the 5th May, 1983. "Wait… I think I have the new edition of this book.
"Really?" Theo responded curiously. "That's the only one they had in the library. I wasn't even aware there was a new edition."
"Honestly, I'd forgotten I even had it," Hermione confessed. For the book she was speaking of was the green leather-bound book Charlie had bought her for her birthday. The very book that lay on her desk, still wrapped in brown paper, untouched.
"I can't believe there's going to be a Christmas party!" Luna said excitedly the following Monday, after the announcement had been made to the student body. The mid-October weather was unusually warm, so Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna had decided to eat lunch together in the courtyard, soaking up the sun while it lasted. It was exactly what Hermione needed. The party announcement had left her feeling overwhelmed, especially after facing backlash over the rules about bringing a date from another house. A particularly sour reaction had come from the same Hufflepuff couple she and Malfoy had caught during their first prefect duty.
"Yeah," Ginny agreed, noticeably less enthused than her friend. "Not sure how I feel about this whole date thing, though."
"I assumed you'd be going solo, Ginny," Hermione remarked. "With Harry not being here an all."
Ginny shrugged. "I don't think he'd mind if I went with someone – just as friends of course. But now that I know I can't take someone in Gryffindor, I'm not sure what I want to do."
"Oh, come on Ginny," Neville chimed in encouragingly. "It's not that bad."
"Easy for you to say," Ginny retorted. "Luna's already accepted your invitation." Hermione's gaze flickered to Luna who was smiling contentedly.
"Are you going to go with anyone, Hermione?" Neville inquired. Hermione felt a sharp pain pulse through her arm at the thought of having to admit what Malfoy's Christmas party plan included.
"Of course," Ginny chimed in before Hermione had the chance to respond. "She's going to go with Theo." Her tone was juvenile – like she was going to break into a rhyme about them kissing in a tree.
"Theo Nott?" Neville confirmed. "Really, Hermione? A Slytherin?"
"I think it would be lovely for you to go with a Slytherin," Luna chimed in. "Theo seems like he could be nice."
Hermione huffed. "I'm not going with Theo."
"Really?" Ginny said, surprised. "So, I can find a date for you then?"
"No, I already have a date. It's just not Theo." Hermione clarified.
Neville raised an eyebrow. "Who is it, then?"
Hermione hesitated. She had known this moment would come, but that didn't make it any easier. She glanced at Luna, hoping for a distraction but she was simply gazing at her expectantly, waiting like the rest of them. The searing pain in her arm grew as a lump began to form in her throat.
"Hermione?" Ginny questioned, bringing her attention back to the group. "Who is it?"
Hermione busied herself by smoothing out the hem of her skirt. "It's not important."
"Not important?" Ginny echoed. "Why are you being so weird about this? Just tell us."
"I don't see why it matters," Hermione said, keeping her voice as even as possible. "It's just a date."
"Then why won't you say who it is?" Ginny shot back.
"I just don't feel like–"
"Oh please," Ginny rolled her eyes playfully. "You always tell me when you've got a date. The fact that you're hiding it means that you know we won't like it."
Hermione's silence was damning.
Ginny's lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes narrowed as she considered who they mystery man was. After a moment, her eyes suddenly darkened, realisation crashing over her like a wave. She stared at Hermione as if seeing her for the first time. "No." Ginny's tone was serious now. Hermione held her breath and her heart felt like it was beating twice its usual speed. "Tell me it's not him."
Neville glanced between them, confused. "Who?"
Ginny ignored him, her fingers curling into fists. "Tell me you're not going with Draco Malfoy?" Hermione's lack of denial was all the confirmation she needed. Neville inhaled sharply and Luna's eyes were wide. But Ginny – Ginny looked furious. "You can't be serious?" She hissed.
"It's not what you think –"
"Not what I think?" Ginny's voice rose, her face turning red.
"It's political," Hermione snapped. "We're doing it to set an example. We can't exactly go around promoting inter house unity if we can't even model it ourselves. That would be hypocritical."
"Oh, spare me," Ginny huffed. "You actually think Malfoy gives a damn about inter-house unity? You think he's suddenly a good person because he's willing to pretend for one night?"
"I didn't say that," Hermione argued, growing frustrated now. She couldn't understand why Ginny was getting upset with her – for something that was out of her control. It made her feel like she suddenly couldn't get enough air.
"I can't believe you agreed to that," Ginny said, incredulously.
"Ginny, could you just leave it, please," Hermione pleaded, hoping to stave off the growing panic.
"No, I'm not going to just leave it," Ginny retorted. "Let me go and speak with McGonagall. I'm sure she wouldn't make you go through with this."
"Ginny, please. It's really not that big a deal," Hermione replied as tears started to prick the corner of her eyes.
"Not that big a deal?" Ginny echoed. "Hermione, are you–"
"That's enough, Ginny Weasley," Hermione said firmly, standing up and gathering her thing. "What's done, is done. I don't want to hear another thing about it."
And with that she stormed off, walking quickly enough to send a clear message that she did not want to be followed. The tension she left behind was thick, pressing against Hermione's chest like an iron weight. She swallowed hard, but the rising panic refused to subside. It coiled in her stomach, wrapping around her lungs like a vice, making her breath shallow and uneven. The ache in her arm flared, a blistering sensation that no amount of dittany or murtlap essence would solve.
The castle halls blurred around her as she walked, the familiar tapestries and flickering torches warping in her vision. She rounded the final corner to her dormitory – the empty hallways acting as a signal to her body that she was free to let go. A single loud cry escaped her lungs as she began to fall apart. She tried to blink back tears but it was futile.
In a daze, Hermione recited the password to the guarding portrait. And as she pressed through the doors, she didn't even consider who might have been there to see her in this state. That was until she heard a voice by the window…
"Granger?"