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Chapter Text

*2nd May 1998*

Ron Weasley latched onto Hermione's bony, pale hand and dragged her through the cold, collapsed castle in a desperate attempt to find an exit that Death Eaters hadn't already blocked off.

Over the past year, Hermione, Ron, and Harry have been hunting Horcruxes in a long-awaited attempt to defeat Voldemort; however, the stress, travelling by foot, and lack of food have taken their toll on the three mentally and physically.

But that didn't matter now. 

Harry Potter was dead.

Suddenly, the last year of their lives seemed like a waste.

The sight of Hermione’s best friend hanging lifeless in Hargrid’s arms felt like a knife to the heart, but she would have been foolish not to have seen this coming.

Hermione always thought that Harry and Voldemort's connection to each other seemed odd and that it must have been formed by something more substantial and darker than legilimency so when Harry had told her about Tom Riddle creating Horcruxes, her suspicion became a theory, only she had hoped - for once in her life - that she was wrong.

"Kill the snake," Harry instructed, "the snake is the last Horcrux," he lied; what he had meant to say was, "The snake will be the last Horcrux," and Neville had tried to kill her in front of everyone, he dragged The Sword Of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat and charged for the snake who rested at Voldemort's feet, her dark silver scales blended into Voldemort’s cloak as though they were one being. Her jet-black eyes told a story of torture and death.  

With his life on the line, Voldemort lifted his skeletal hand and pointed his wand at Neville, striking him with The Cruciatus Curse.

Hermione cringed as she watched her friend crash to the floor, writhing over the cobbled courtyard whilst his screams of agony bled through her ears. She knew exactly what he was going through after Bellatrix Lestrange inflicted the same curse on her in Malfoy Manor; that pain was unlike any other and was most definitely a pain one would never forget.

Hermione could hear the words “Please stop”, leaving Neville’s mouth between each piercing scream. She wondered if he ever would, if someone would dare to step out and help Neville, or if Voldemort would simply continue endlessly until Neville was forced to suffer the same fate as his parents.

Beyond Neville’s cries for help, Hermione could hear the soul-shaking cackle from the Death Eaters herd standing behind Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange being the loudest and cruellest of them all. Hermione wanted to save him. She tried to pull out her wand and use that same curse on Voldemort. She wanted to make him suffer the way he and his followers had made others suffer. 

She looked over at her dead best friend as dark thoughts plagued her mind. She prayed for a second that he would take a deep breath and leap up from Hagrid's arms, saving the day like he always did, but instead, he just lay limp, his arms and legs dangling like broken tree branches, The Boy Who Lived was dead.

Neville took a deep breath as Voldemort lowered his wand and stopped the curse; even Hermione herself sighed in relief, knowing that his pain mainly had ended. But that relief was short-lived. Voldemort looked down at Nagini and gave her a nod; the snake slowly slithered towards Neville, who still lay lifeless on the ground. The python began to pick up her pace before pouncing onto him with her mouth wide open and a violent hiss that could be heard from every corner of the courtyard. 

Hermione had to force herself to look away. She squeezed her eyes shut and pushed her head into the crook of Ron's neck; however, Ron didn't take time to comfort her; his only thought at this precise moment was getting his girlfriend out of there.

 —

Everyone was running around the building searching for a way out, but The Death Eaters had taken over the school; they were outnumbered, unprepared and exhausted, so fighting was hardly an option, and Ron could only think to escape. He attempted to grab his family's attention, but a giant abruptly stormed, separating the yet-to-be-formed group. Ron had convinced himself that this would be for the best; a larger group would quickly grab more attention and most likely get them killed.

”Hermione!” Ron gasped as they ran through a narrow doorway. “We need to find an exit quickly!” He exclaimed, “What about your parents?! Ginny? George? What about our friends?” Hermione quickly replied. Ron let out a frustrated huff and dragged Hermione closer to him, hoping to force her to speed up. “We don’t have time to return for them, Hermione. Look around! You can be the smartest person in the room, but sometimes you’re as oblivious as Luna!” Ron snapped.

Suddenly, from around a pillar, Fenrir Greyback leapt in front of the two and began to strut towards them like a lion hunting its prey slowly. His immense shadow devoured them; his eyes only saw his meal. Between his crooked smirk, Hermione could see his sharp fangs. One bite from them would kill or turn you, whichever fate The Big Bad Wolf desired.

Hermione quickly lifted her wand and shot the beast with Stupify before continuing her search for an exit with Ron.

”You are bloody Brilliant, Hermione!” Ron laughed as they ran past Fenrir's limp body. “Really?! Because a minute ago I was ‘as oblivious as Luna,’” Hermione snapped in response, “oh, Mione, come on, I didn’t mean it like that! You were ready to play the part of the stereotypical Gryffindor and run back there to save everyone-“

”They are our friends and your family, Ronald! How can we possibly leave them?!” Hermione yelled, “Hermione, if we try to play the hero right now, we will end up exactly like Harry and Neville and will be no good to anyone if we are dead!”

While sprinting through the castle, the two finally came across an empty hallway. It certainly hadn't been untouched by the battle, but the odd few pillars stood, and most of the roof was still above their heads. “Please, Ron,” Hermione gasped. I need a minute to breathe,” she told him with tears in her eyes. “Fine, but just a minute, we must leave the castle, Hermione, quickly.”

The two ducked into an alcove, and Ron watched as Hermione tried to catch her breath. “We can lay low here for a few minutes and catch our breath, but we need to move quickly, Mione, if we have any chance of escaping,” Ron repeated as though Hermione had blatantly ignored him the first time. “And then what? Where will we go? And what about everyone else?” Hermione breathed as she perched herself on part of a mostly fallen wall, “Our only hope is to get past the Hogwarts defences and apparate to The Burrow; we can wait for the others there, an hour, maybe two, but no more and then we flee, to Europe, or Australia maybe? I’m not sure, but anywhere away from here,” Ron rambled. “Harry wouldn’t have run,” Hermione mumbled as she rested her head against the wall and relieved her heavy eyes.

Ron knelt in front of her and cupped her cheek with his right hand while holding his wand tightly in his left. “We’re going to be okay, Hermione, I promise, and we will come back and defeat Voldemort, but not today,” he whispered. But Hermione didn’t want a false sense of hope, so she quickly batted his hand away from her and let her head fall into her own. 

"You know the plan, get her out of here and don't be seen.”

 Hermione’s head jolted back up. 

“Winky is already at the safe house, ready to help the injured," a masculine voice spoke. 

Ron and Hermione peeked around the alcove's edge and saw Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy standing, conversing in the empty hallway.

It hadn't been long since the two watched Draco walk to the other side of the courtyard and join his father, who had practically begged his son to walk to the 'right' side. 

"Don't be like your mother," Lucius pleaded, confusing most of the crowd and painting a vicious scowl on Voldemort's face, "Draco, if you know what is good for you, then you will fight for the right side," Lucius continued. Draco hesitated momentarily and looked towards the still bundle nestled in Hagrid's arms. Still, when he realised that Harry was genuinely dead, he began to take small, slow steps towards Voldemort's side, where he was pulled into an awkward hug.

—

Ron raised his wand and pointed it at the group, ready to attack, but Hermione grabbed his wrist and shook her head at him. She was keen to know what they were talking about.

"And what about her boyfriend, Malfoy? She's not going to want to leave him," Blaise stated, "bring him if you have to. I don't care! Just get her out of here, safely! I won't let The Dark Lord take her! You know his plans, Zabini!" Draco snapped at the boy, "Ah yes, because her precious boyfriend is well known for trusting Slytherins and Death Eaters ," Theodore laughed. "I'm sure he will gladly come with us," sarcasm dripped from his tongue like venom. "Bind him, stun him, stun them both! I don't care! Just don't fucking hurt her!" Draco snapped as he began to pace back and forth between his two friends.

"It's rather funny, don't you think?" Blaise laughed. "You've spent years bullying the poor girl, denying your feelings and now you're about to risk your life and our lives to get her out of here, and she doesn't see you as more than a pompous Death Eater with daddy issues who got Dumbledore-"

"Don't you dare finish that fucking sentence, Zabini!" Draco seethed.

Hermione and Ron had let their guards down as they listened intently to a conversation in which they were not welcomed. Yet Hermione couldn't help but wonder who this girl was that Draco Malfoy was so desperate to protect.

Draco let out a harsh groan and gripped his left forearm. "He's calling me," he grunted. Hermione and Ron could see the Dark Mark imprinted on his skin. “To think we saved that crummy bastard!” Ron muttered as he impatiently twiddled his wand between his fingers.

"Get her out of here! I don't care about the others! She is a priority!" Draco yelled as he began to run the opposite way down the hallway.

"Guess we better get looking then," Blaise sighed.

"Avada Kadavra!"

A bright green light came directly from behind Hermione and hit Ron directly in the back; he let out a piercing scream before falling lifeless to the ground. Hermione's heart stopped as she stared at her boyfriend's unmoving body.

She stood and stared in shock and disbelief, almost hoping that she had made this whole day up in her head and that it was all just a bad dream. That Harry wasn't lying dead back in the courtyard and that Ron wasn’t lying dead in front of her now. But as a single tear ran down her cheek, her heart began to burn like acid. She knew that this was very much real.

She looked up to the person who cast the curse, and there stood Antonin Dolohov, dressed head-to-toe in his Death Eater robes with a proud smirk and his wand firmly in his grasp.

Hermione quickly raised hers, but Antonin was quicker. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed her, shooting her wand out of her hand and sending it somewhere down the rubble-filled hallway. "Well, if it isn't Potter's Mudblood," he laughed, taking long strides towards her.

Hermione wanted to run, fight, or summon her wand, but she knew it would be pointless. With one flick of his wand, she would be dead; all she had to do was cringe, and Antonin wouldn't hesitate to end her life - or worse.

"That was quite the memory charm you performed on me that night in the muggle cafe," he continued, "oh, how I have dreamed of repaying you," he groaned as he rolled his head back with a sinister smile carved into his expression. Now, with less than an inch between them, Antonin raised his hand to brush her cheek as he leaned in close enough to inhale her scent whilst Hermione stood still and firm, holding eye contact, refusing to give in to her fight or flight instinct.

"Well, you're going to have to keep dreaming, Dolohov," a voice spoke.

Antonin snapped back and turned to face Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, who stood with their wands and pointed at him. "What are you two doing?" Antonin seethed. "Right,  now I cannot be arsed with a fight right now, so just hand her over, and I’ll let you keep all ten of your fingers. I’m feeling generous, you see." Theodore instructed calmly, with a cocky grin playing at his expression.

A look of confusion washed over Hermione's face as she watched the two boys save her.

Or perhaps they wanted to capture her and hand her in to Voldemort themselves?

"And what is going on here?" another voice spoke. They all turned to see two masked Death Eaters head their way. “I have caught Potter's Mudblood, and these two are threatening me," Antonin explained. One of the Death Eaters removed their mask, revealing Nott Sr. "Son, lower your wand," Theodore's father instructed.

Theodore rolled his head in frustration, knowing he would regret his next words. "I'm sorry, Father, but I cannot do that," he stated with a dramatic sigh. “And why is that?!" Nott Sr questioned.

Hermione still stood there silently, confused and scared, watching the - unexpected - confrontation.

"Because I can't let you do this," Theodore spoke. "I can't let you harm the Mudblood."

All of the men became agitated, and their wands shook in their hands as they restrained themselves.

"And why is that?" Nott Sr snapped, "Because we can't let him win, don't you see what you have become, father? So hateful, so violent, and why? Because of blood supremacy? You’re getting on a bit, father. You can barely tie your shoelaces, yet you think you are better than a mudblood?

You're like him, like that monster out there! I won't be like you, Father; I don’t want to kill and torture people because they’re not someone else’s idea of pure , and I won’t let you take this mudblood for you to make a spectacle of her!"

"You claim that I am a monster and my ideals are wrong, And yet you throw about the term 'Mudblood' so effortlessly," Nott Sr retorted. "Because of you!" Theodore yelled.

Hermione watched as Theodore argued with his father. They both looked so similar yet different simultaneously, and she was fascinated by their appearances, voices, and stances. 

Theodore was slightly taller than his father, but they had the same steel grey eyes and dark brown curls. Their facial expressions mimicked each other almost perfectly, and aside from age lines and creases, the only difference between the two was Theodore's sharper jawline and slimmer build. 

Despite their almost identical appearance, their speaking styles were entirely different. Nott Sr spoke in a firm and direct tone. He knew what he wanted to say and would say it that way. There was almost no emotion behind his words, whereas Theodore spoke with passion and empathy—an emotion Hermione was particularly Nott Sr was unfamiliar with.

However, the most evident part about the two that Hermione couldn’t help but examine was their stance. Theodore had his wand up and, at the ready, pointed straight towards his father. Nott Sr had his wand in hand but by his side. Any other witch or wizard would be prepared to cast in a second in any threatening or potentially dangerous situation. Still, Nott Sr was either very confident in himself to deflect or extremely doubted his son's ability to attack.

Even fighting for the same side, Hermione knew the two were not a tactical father-son match.

“Blaise, what would your father say about this?" Nott Sr asked, drawing his attention away from his son, "fuck all, he's dead," Blaise responded bluntly, rolling his eyes at the question. “Being a filthy rich pureblood won’t save you from my mother.”

Nott Sr ignored his comment and again drew his attention to Theodore. "Please, son, join us. The Dark Lord needn't know about your treachery; we can hand over Potter's Mudblood, and we shall be praised-"

"No!" Antonin yelled, "She is mine!"

"Your obsession with the Mudblood is becoming concerning, Antonin," the masked Death Eater spoke.

Hermione shivered at the word 'obsession'.

"Enough of this!" Antonin yelled as he grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her closer to him, forcing a yelp to escape her mouth. "I will be taking her to The Dark Lord, and I will be keeping her!" he stated matter-of-factly.

He went to pull her away, but before he could begin, he and Hermione were hit with stupify, cast by Blaise. The blast shot the two back and knocked Hermione unconscious in seconds.

Chapter Text

*4th May 1998*

As Hermione began to stir, she could feel her body ache. Her muscles were tight and torn, her skin was scratched and bruised, and her head was somehow heavy and light at the same time. An ongoing ringing echoed through her ears. Her stomach felt full and empty, and her bones felt like glass. She was desperate for food, water, and a hot bubble bath but more desperately craved answers.

Beneath her back, Hermione could feel the dent of a mattress. Above her chest, she could feel the warm embrace of a duvet, and over the sound of the ringing, Hermione could hear voices-

And suddenly, her blood ran cold.

Had The Death Eaters taken her, she wondered?

Why was she still alive?

Where was she?

Who was in the room with her? 

"She still hasn't woken up," one of the voices stated.

It was a young man's voice familiar to Hermione, but she couldn't quite place who he was.

“Well, I just tried speaking to the Weasley girl; she's struggling to accept that Pansy saved her after Bellatrix killed her mother. Ungrateful bitch," another male voice spoke.

Again, his voice was familiar, but not one Hermione knew well.

"So Ginny is here," Hermione thought to herself. A sigh of relief almost escaped her mouth, but she quickly trapped it using her lips as a cage. " Pansy had saved her? Pansy Parkinson ?" she wondered. “ And Molly is dead? " Hermione could almost hear the sound of her heart as it shattered, feeling each shard cut into her as it burned in her stomach while her eyes began to drown in her tears.

"Yeah, I heard most of the Gryffindors we saved are being difficult. Typical," one of the men scoffed.

" Saved? " Hermione questioned, " Am I safe? Where am I ?"

"None of them will listen to Narcissa either," the second man spoke.

" Narcissa? As in Narcissa Malfoy ?" Hermione's thoughts continued.

Suddenly, a door opened, and Hermione heard a third man's voice - another familiar one she couldn't quite place.

"I just got done talking to Hannah Abbot. She seemed to listen and believe me when I told her she was safe—typical Hufflepuff—no one else seems to believe the word of a Death Eater, though," the voice scoffed. Small chuckles came from the men before a moment of silence and a frustrated sigh: "She's still not awake, then?" The third man spoke, "No, I might have shot my stupify a bit too hard..."

" So one of the three must be Blaise, " Hermione confirmed silently.

" You think?! She's been out cold for three fucking days!" One of the two remaining mystery men yelled.

" So I've been unconscious for three days, " Hermione concluded. “ Why am I still alive? ”

"How often do I need to say I'm sorry until you stop bringing it up?!" Blaise bit back, "How many times do I have to tell you to get someone out safely until you successfully do so?!" The man responded harshly.

" Was this Malfoy? " Hermione questioned. She could recall him instructing Theodore and Blaise to get someone out of the castle safely, someone whom he had bullied just before Ron- 

"Easier said than done, mate," the other mysterious man spoke, interrupting Hermione’s thought, "Dolohov had her cornered with no wand, and then mine and Goyle's father’s showed up; it was three to two! We were lucky to make it out with her!"

She confirmed, "So the third man is Theodore Nott, and the third Death Eater was Gregory Goyle's father."

"Not to mention that The Dark Lord now knows we're traitors!" Theodore continued. A harsh and tired sigh escaped from one of the men. "Listen, Malfoy-"

" I was right then. "

"Most people here don't have wands, including the brightest witch of our age ," Blaise stated.

" They didn't get my wand?! " She mentally shouted.

"Everyone is grieving; no one trusts us, so what is your plan here? Keep them all in this fucking house and hope that The Dark Lord dies of old age?" Blaise barked, "Look, I don't know, okay?! I haven't figured that out yet, and I don't know why you're talking like you're not trapped here, too, because, as Theodore just said, The Dark Lord knows that you're traitors; it's not safe for you two out there either," Draco retorted.

Hermione lay confused, lost and scared. Her stomach began to twist at the feeling of not knowing, even more so in fear, and she would be a fool to think that she could simply pretend to be asleep until she had all the answers she needed.

Whether she was safe or not, she could not hold up her sleeping ruse forever.

Hermione began to slowly pry her eyes open, both with difficulty and in anticipation. The moment her lids parted slightly, she was forced to turn and shield herself from the bright light that infested the room. 

A harsh groan escaped Hermione's dry throat as pain sprinted through her body. She then felt a hand rest gently on her bicep and a soft 'hush' breeze through her ears. She quickly tried to jolt away but was greeted by what must have been a wall and a loud groan, then broke free.

Pain circulated through Hermione’s body as each muscle tensed, and her heartbeat increased rapidly with the realisation that she was trapped.

 "Hey, hey, Granger, you're alright, you're safe. Are you in any pain?" a soft voice said.

When Hermione's eyes focused, she realised that Blaise was speaking to her. He was crouched beside her, stretched his arm out, and began to stroke her arm to comfort her gently.

"Should I call Winky?" Theodore asked, "no, she's still attending to that Dean Thomas bloke," Blaise answered.

Dean was alive.

"What about Kreacher?" Theodore asked again, "Have you hit your head, Nott?!" Draco snapped. "The foul bastard has been spitting all sorts of shit about having to help Mudbloods since we brought him here."

Hermione pushed herself up but couldn't help but wince as she did so. She looked around the room and saw she was in what looked like a bedroom. 

It wasn't the nicest bedroom she had ever seen, but it wasn't a dungeon either. The walls were covered in a light blue wallpaper peeling off a little by the ceiling, and an off-white rug lay the middle of the light hardwood flooring. Hermione was seated on a very dark wooden single bed pushed up against the wall, and at the opposite end of the room was a grey wardrobe and set of drawers along with a dark blue chair, which Theodore Nott currently occupied. Letting light into the room was an open window shielded by white floral curtains, and aside from the poor decorating and the mismatched furniture, it certainly wasn’t the hell Hermione was expecting.

"Where am I?" Hermione's voice croaked tiredly, "Why don't we get you something to eat and drink and a potion that may help to ease any pain you’re in and then we will explain everything," Blaise suggested. Hermione looked around the room once more and saw all three men staring at her curiously; Draco Malfoy stood the furthest away, his eyes flicked between her Blaise, and his body was tense.

It was then that Hermione noticed Draco was wearing black Death Eater robes. She quickly jumped off of the bed in a panic, but the moment her second foot hit the floor, her legs gave out, and she collapsed, hitting the floor with a thud.

"Aye! Down she Goes!" Theodore laughed as he pulled himself out of the chair in the corner of the room.

Hermione ignored Theodore’s comment and continued to stare over at Draco. He was staring back at her but she didn’t meet his gaze. She was too busy staring at his Death Eater robes.

Blaise and Theodore looked at Draco and noticed what had scared Hermione, "Malfoy, perhaps you should leave," Blaise suggested. Draco's face dropped, and he almost looked hurt for a second, but he quickly resumed his emotionless expression and headed out of the room, not so much as a sigh leaving his mouth.

Blaise stood and helped Hermione back onto the bed. She had no energy to fight him off, so she let him.

Wandless, in pain, hungry, and thirsty, she knew that she had no hope of escape at this moment in time. However, she also knew that Ginny was there wherever she was. 

Ginny, her best friend who had lost so much, had allegedly been saved by Pansy Parkinson—although Hermione would prefer to hear that from Ginny herself.

"Granger, I understand you have no reason to trust us-" Blaise began, but Hermione quickly cut him off, "No reason to trust you?! Oh, I wonder why!" She sarcastically laughed, although her words didn't come out as strongly as she would have liked, "You and your friends only bullied me almost every day throughout our time at school! Your parents are only Death Eaters! You are only Death Eaters!" She yelled, "Actually, Blaise and I never took the mark," Theodore corrected, "you are not helping," Blaise snapped at him.

Blaise and Theodore were never quite as bad as some of the other Slytherins; alone, they would never bother Hermione, and even with their friends, they would only laugh at the insults thrown at her. Blaise had only ever called Hermione a mudblood once when he was with Daphne Greengrass - most likely in some attempt to impress her - and Theodore had barely spoken a word to her. Nevertheless, they were still Death Eaters; they still supported Voldemort and Mark or no Mark; Hermione refused to trust them blindly.

Her mum used to say, "You will never change the world if you just sit and watch others ruin it," and she was right. But Hermione had stood and watched these boys and their families take her world and destroy it. Trusting them was more than a lot to ask, and proving to her that they weren't the same people who wanted her and people of her kind dead would take more than just 'saving' her and putting on a soft smile and kind tone.

Blaise sucked in a deep breath before drawing his attention back to Hermione, "Yes, what we did was wrong, and no amount of apologising and saving you will ever make up for that, but please trust us, Granger, you don't have to trust us entirely, but please trust that you are safe," he pleaded.

"Where am I?" Was all Hermione could respond with, "You're at a safe house, secretly owned by Narcissa Malfoy; she bought it just after the fourth year when The Dark- when You-Know-Who returned, and Lucius allowed him to live at their manor. This place was a fail-safe, for in case Harry didn't win- which was a good idea on her part," Blaise explained.

"Who else is here?" Hermione asked calmly. She found her curiosity overwhelming and her need for answers like a drug addiction "Well, there's you, us," Blaise started and pointed to himself and Theodore, "Draco, Narcissa, two house elves, Winky and Kreacher - and I know that you're against house elves being enslaved but believe me when I say this Granger, with The Dark- with You-Know-Who back in power, they're safer here than running around 'free'-”

Blaise was right to think that Hermione wouldn’t like the idea of having house elves, but Dobby once told her about what life was like when Voldemort had power all those years ago. She wasn’t so uptight about her beliefs that she would think it a good idea to set them free with him winning the battle and already having a tight hold on the Ministry.

“There's erm, Hannah Abbot, Ernie Macmillan, Susan Bones, James Tuckett, Dora Williams, Luna Lovegood, Marcus Belby, Terry Boot, Adrian Pucey, Professor Slughorn, Millicent Bulstrode, Ginny Weasley - who is very eager to see you by the way- Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, Colin Creevy and Cormac Mclaggen."

"Only one Professor?" Hermione questioned, "We grabbed who we could using our limited portkeys. Narcissa would have preferred we gathered bigger groups, but most people didn't trust us, and when you have to stun people to get them somewhere via portkey, it's easier to send them alone. Besides, most of the professors were already dead, beyond help, or were evacuating the younger years," Blaise explained, "had we not been caught saving you, we would have used the last portkey on you alone and gone about our business pretending to be loyal to The- You-Know-Who."

"Yeah, well, we were caught, and we're not undercover, so you're going to have to work on that 'Dark Lord - You-Know-Who' crap. It's bad enough that everyone here thinks we're going to kill them in their sleep. No need for them to assume we're loyal to that bastard," Theodore laughed.

"What do you mean, 'undercover'?" Hermione asked, "I'll get to that in a bit," Blaise stated cocking a brow.

Hermione hesitated to ask her next question but knew her mind would scare her into thinking the worst. "What of those whose names you didn't mention?" She asked, "Well, we don't know for sure. Some escaped, some died, and others were..." Blaise was hesitant to finish the sentence, but Theodore was generous enough to finish it for him: " Captured. Quite frankly, I'd rather be dead than captured."

A shiver ran down Hermione's spine. She didn't dare imagine what would happen to the people being held captive. She recalled Antonin Dolohov saying that he planned to take her to Voldemort and keep her for his own, and those words alone almost made her convulse.

"So, what are the conditions of living here?" She asked quickly, changing the subject, "Well, the original plan was to give people the option to leave, fend for themselves or search for the remaining members of The Order, but seen as this is a safe house if anyone was caught, then the rest of us would be in danger. There's also the issue that most people here don't have wands, and the few people who did - primarily you Gryffindors - tried attacking us when they first arrived, so we were forced to take them. Again, the whole point of the safe house is to keep people safe. If we allowed anyone to leave without a wand, then we wouldn't be doing our job, would we?" Blaise explained, "a job that you gave yourself," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "No one asked you to help us."

"And where would you be if we hadn't? Hm? Probably in Dolohov's bedroom right now, stunned so you couldn't fight back, but still able to speak because he would love to hear your screams, listen to you begging him to stop, your involuntary cries as he fucks you over and over again. Tell me, Granger, would he have been your first?" Theodore taunted, wearing a sly smirk, and stared directly into Hermione's eyes. 

Hermione began to tremble. It had become clear to her what would happen to most of the girls captured and what would have happened to her had it not been for Blaise and Theodore.

"That's enough, Nott!" Blaise snapped. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a small 'pop' sound occurred and in the middle of the room stood a tiny house elf wearing nothing but an old pillowcase and holding a black plastic tray filled with food, drinks and a black vial - a potion of some sort.

Hermione, having met Kreacher before, knew that this was not him. This house elf was younger than Kreacher, and its arms and legs were more bony. "Master Draco said I am to bring Miss Granger foods, waters and pain potions, Miss," the tiny elf squeaked, her eyes raked over Hermione as if to get a good look at her before she smiled approvingly and placed the tray at the end of the bed, "do not worry Miss, Winky did not poison the foods or the waters or the potions, I only wish to helps you," she squeaked.

Hermione looked uncertainly at Blaise, who quietly chuckled to himself. "Most people here have refused to eat and drink because they assume that we are trying to kill them," he explained. “Yeah, as if we would do it in such a menial way," Theodore scoffed. 

Hermione had begun to appreciate that they hadn't had many encounters at school.

"Right! Get out!" Blaise snapped angrily, "What?! Why?! I was only joking!" Theodore defended, "Ah yes, because your jokes have all gone down so well!" Blaise snapped again. Frustration burned in Blaise's eyes, and he had had enough of Theodore's snarky remarks. "There's a time and a place, Nott. You've never been very good at spotting, either. Go to Narcissa and tell her exactly what you've said to Granger. I'll correct her about any parts you miss out on," he instructed. "You can't just tell me what to do!" Theodore yelled, his face turned red with rage and embarrassment. He was suddenly aware of Hermione's presence in the room as Blaise bossed him around like a Hogwarts professor.

"No, you're right, I can't, but I'm sure Malfoy would love to deal with you," Blaise said smugly with a malicious smile painted across his face. Theodore opened his mouth to respond but instead chose to restrain himself. Clenching his fists, he did as Blaise instructed and stormed out of the bedroom.

"Winky, please tell Draco I will meet him and Narcissa once I'm done with Granger. I'll make sure she eats and drinks her potion," Blaise said to the tiny elf, who still stood smiling.

During Blaise and Theodore's row, Hermione had scanned Winky for any sign of abuse, but the elf had no cuts, bruises, or bandages. Her arms and legs were full and plump. Unlike how Harry had described Dobby when he had first met him, the elf was not skittish or shaking. She hadn't attempted to punish herself for speaking to a mudblood, nor had she hit her head on anything. The elf seemed perfectly happy and healthy.

This almost brought a smile to Hermione's face.

The tiny elf nodded but said nothing more, and then, in the blink of an eye, a small 'pop' sound occurred again, and Winky was gone.

Blaise turned his attention back to Hermione, who was still sitting weakly on the bed. "I'm sorry about him. He's been rude to all of the Gryffindors here, seeing as Pansy was captured saving one," he explained. What do you mean?" Hermione asked. The question wasn't only to fill the silence and feed Hermione's new curiosity.

She assumed Pansy was in the safe house somewhere, seeing as she had supposedly saved Ginny. Yet Hermione was grateful that the witch hadn't made an appearance—Merlin knows the two indeed weren’t friendly towards one another at Hogwarts—but now her stomach twisted at the horrifying thought of her being held captive by Death Eaters.

"Well, I wasn't there to see it. Theo and I were a little busy saving you, but after Bellatrix Lestrange killed Molly Weasley, she attempted to kill or capture Ginny. From what I heard, she was a goner, but Pansy has been working for Narcissa for almost a year, and she saw Ginny about to lose the fight. She stepped in and saved her, but she was no match for Bellatrix; when she realised she wasn't going to win, she threw a portkey at Ginny, and seconds after Ginny disappeared, she was stunned. We haven't seen her since," Blaise explained.

“Molly died…” Hermione muttered as she looked down to hide the tears beginning to fall. “I’m sorry, Granger. I understand that you two were close,” Blaise responded softly. Hermione quickly wiped away her tears and snapped her head to face Blaise, "But I don't understand why Nott is taking it out on the rest of us?! It’s not Ginny’s fault! She had just lost her mother! And it certainly isn’t my fault either!"

"Theo and Pansy were together. He loves her, and we have all known for a while now. He just could never bring himself to admit it, and now she’s gone. She sacrificed herself to save Ginny, and he… Theo never got to tell her how he felt. He's blaming it on Ginny and taking it out on the rest of you."  

Hermione sat still for a second and tried to file every piece of new information she had been given neatly inside her brain, but she still didn't have enough. She needed more.

"Granger," Blaise spoke, dragging Hermione back to reality, "please eat. I promise if you do, then I will take you to see Weasley," he sighed. Hermione opened her mouth to speak; her brain was infested with questions, but Blaise stopped her before she could breathe a word, "now that you're awake, tomorrow we will hold a house meeting explaining everything, where you can ask all the questions you want, but for now, you'll need your strength, there're a few people who are waiting to see you." Blaise pushed the tray closer to Hermione, gesturing for her to eat. She reluctantly grabbed it and pulled it onto her lap.

The tray had a plate in the middle. The plate contained a small salad, a bowl of melted cheese, and Panera bread.

Her favourite. 

The tray held a glass of water and a steaming cup of coffee.

She loved a coffee first thing after getting out of bed.

Lastly, the tray held a small vial, which Hermione assumed was pepperup potion.    

She picked up the fork that lay beside the plate and stabbed a piece of lettuce and tomato with it; she brought the fork up to her lips and let it hover before she moved her eyes to Blaise, who was staring directly at her, watching intently. Placing the fork back onto the tray, she took a deep breath and watched as Blaise's body went tense, "I'll eat, but I need you to answer one more question," she began, "Nott said something about going 'undercover' what did he mean?" She asked.

Blaise took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as if to prepare himself, "Malfoy was wearing his Death Eater robes for that exact reason, later tonight he and Adrian Pucey are leaving, and they will be pretending to be loyal to The Dar- You-Know-Who. The original plan was for myself, Theodore, Adrian, Pansy, Draco and Narcissa to work for You-Know-Who until we managed to kill him and try to save and protect people if we could, but Pansy is missing. Theodore and I were caught saving you. Narcissa was caught trying to save Potter, so that leaves Draco and Adrian," he told her.

"Wait, Mrs Malfoy saved Harry?" Hermione questioned, "When You-Know-Who first shot the killing curse at Potter, Narcissa was asked to check that he was dead, but when she felt his pulse and realised he was alive, she asked if Draco was still alive. Potter nodded, and Narcissa turned back to The-,” he sighed, becoming more frustrated with his habit “You-Know-Who, but before she could lie for him, it turned out that Bellatrix had heard the full thing and she didn't hesitate to expose her sister to You-Know-Who. He shot another killing curse at Potter, and Narcissa was forced to portkey out.”

Letting out a quick sigh, Blaise sat up straight. "Right, I just answered two of your questions, and you will find out more tomorrow. Now, eat," he instructed, picking up the fork and placing it in her hand.

Hermione quickly took the fork from his hand and began shovelling food into her mouth as though she may never eat again -though she wasn’t entirely sure that that wouldn’t be the case- and admittedly, the food was delicious. Once half of the food had been eaten, Blaise got up to go after promising to be back shortly to take Hermione to see Ginny, and whilst Hermione was excited to see her friend, it stung to know that she was one of the last ones left.

Chapter Text

*4th May 1998*

Blaise returned half an hour later and offered Hermione a tour before taking her to Ginny, but she declined. She decided she would rather figure out what she planned to do after the meeting before becoming accustomed to the house.

Inside the wardrobe in her room were a few selections of clothes. Blaise quickly warned Hermione that they might not fit and explained that they had to guess sizes when stocking up, and they assumed Hermione was a few sizes larger. This didn't upset Hermione, as she was bigger and healthier before she left with Harry and Ron on their Horcrux Hunt. Looking at her reflection now, she could count each of her bones and be on display in a muggle biology lab.

The wardrobe hadn't been equipped with many muggle items of clothing—which didn't surprise her—but she was lucky to find two pairs of navy blue straight-legged jeans. She picked up one pair and grabbed a creme cotton jumper, caring more about being comfortable than looking good. Once on, she attempted to use wandless magic to make the outfit fit better, but after her fifth aggravating attempt, Blaise performed the charm for her.

Once upon a time, Hermione could have done a spell that was simply wandless with no issue, but she was out of practice and out of sorts. She was grieving, weak, confused, lost, and once the brightest witch of her age, but now she felt broken.  

Blaise looked Hermione up and down with a dull—almost worried—expression before forcing a smile and heading towards the door. “Are you ready?” he asked her. Hermione took a deep breath before nodding and following Blaise out of the room into a dimly lit orange hallway. 

As they made their way down to Ginny's room, Hermione couldn’t help but notice the framed photos on the wall and how none of them moved. Most of the photos contained the same people: an older couple, two young girls, and a young boy. Clearly, they were all a family, but the photographs were all taken on a muggle camera. 

“Who are the people in these pictures?” Hermione asked Blaise as she picked up her pace, “They were the muggle family who used to live here. I'm not sure what happened to the kids, but the wife died a few years back, and I think her husband went mad or something. Maybe it was bald? I’m not sure I wasn’t listening when Narcissa told us about the place, ‘The point is they’re gone, and this is our place now,” he explained with a pleasant grin that made Hermione feel uneasy.

The two continued walking through the house. With every other step, Blaise felt the need to check that Hermione was still standing. He would insistently ask whether she was alright, to which Hermione would simply respond with “Yes.” Luckily, Ginny’s room was only at the other end of the hallway, so Blaise only had to ask five or six times.

Blaise knocked on the door twice, but there was no answer. Shifting uncomfortably, Blaise knocked again. "Go away!" Ginny finally shouted, "I think you'd like to see the person at the other end of this door," he responded in a sweet, chirpy manner, “Oh, I highly doubt it! Stay the fuck away from me, or I swear to Merlin, you will regret it!”

Choosing to ignore Ginny’s threat, Blaise slowly began to open the door and found himself greeted by Ginny, who was defensively holding a snapped coat hanger. The rage in her face matched perfectly with her bloodshot eyes, and she had a cut down her cheek that had scabbed over. 

Ginny began to storm forward, her coat hanger at the ready, but once she caught sight of Hermione, she dropped it and ran towards her, tying Hermione in her arms. "It's you! You're alright!" Ginny squealed, "Yes, it's me, I'm fine," Hermione wheezed.

Once Ginny's grip loosened, Hermione pulled away slightly. Their eyes glistened with tears of joy and sadness, “Look at you, you- you look- you look- oh Hermione!” She cried before dragging Hermione back into her arms for another hug; Hermione quickly wrapped her arms tightly around her friend and held her as close as possible, properly soaking in the warmth of another person for the first time in over a year "Oh, Ginny I am so sorry about your mum and Ron, I'm-"
"Ron?" Ginny repeated.

A moment of silence hit the room as Ginny pulled away from Hermione and looked to Blaise for an explanation. " We tried to tell you, but you've spent the last two days threatening us. We didn't think telling you that your brother had died would be a good idea," Blaise mumbled, his eyes never meeting hers.

"No..." Ginny mumbled. Her legs went limp, and she backed towards her bed before allowing her body to fall onto it. Her head fell into her hands as she began to sob.

”How?” She cried breathlessly, “How did he die?”

"Ginny, I'm sorry. It was Dolohov. There was nothing I could have done," Hermione told her as tears began spilling from her eyes.

Hermione had had no time to grieve yet, but suddenly, every death hit her, and she fell to the floor like a bag of bricks. Tears raced down her face as sobs broke from her mouth, "I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry," she cried.

She was sorry for the people who had lost their lives, the people she couldn't save, she was sorry for how much everyone had lost, and she was sorry for those who were captured.

She was so sorry.

"Do you need anything?" Blaise spoke softly, "Just get out!" Ginny screamed, "Just get out..." she mumbled again through soft sobs.

The door was shut momentarily, and Blaise left Hermione and Ginny alone to process and grieve.

"What do we do, Hermione?" Ginny asked weakly. “I don't know. He won, Ginny; Voldemort won. We don't have anywhere to go. We don't know who's alive and who's dead. It's not safe out there, but how safe is it here?" Hermione replied through her soft cries.

“There has to be some hope. There has to be someone out there who can help us end this!” Ginny cried as she began to wipe her tears. “We have to avenge Harry, my mum, Ron, and everyone else who died trying to defeat that coward! Even if there isn’t anyone left, we can fight. We can get our wands back, take everyone from here, and fight!”

“Avenge? Ginny, this was never about avenging anyone to Harry, not his parents, Mad-Eye, Sirius, or anyone. This was about defeating a dark wizard who wants nothing but to be feared no matter the cost, and besides, I lost my wand, and I can’t even perform a charm so simple as to make my clothes fit me properly. No one here is in any sort of condition to ‘fight’ not anymore-“

”Then what was all of this for?! All we have done is fight. You, of all people, should know that! How can you just give up?!”

”I am not giving up, Ginny. I am trying to put things into perspective! I don’t know if we are safe here, but I know we are anything but safe out there!” Hermione argued as her tears continued to burn her cheeks. “I’m not sure what is going on here, but if we leave, we won’t last a week without being killed or captured.” 

Ginny knew Hermione was right; most people in the house were injured or traumatised. All night long, she had heard Colin Creevey screaming bloody murder about Death Eaters and Dementors and Giants that were coming to kill him. She knew that trying to get them all out of the house and attempting to make it on their own would be stupid, but she couldn’t be sure that staying was a bright idea either.

Blaise was forced to take Ginny's wand after she tried to hex him and Theodore. They said she would get it back when she stopped trying to attack them. The first day and a half she had been there, Kreacher had brought her food, which she refused to eat. He came in mumbling about how he should not be serving blood traitors but never said a word directly to Ginny. It wasn't until Winky came and brought Dean that Ginny decided to eat.

Ginny was relieved when Blaise told her Hermione was there but furious when Draco wouldn't let anyone see her. He said that she needed to rest.

As though he knew what she needed.

Ginny hadn't been allowed to see many people. Many of the people who had been brought to the safe house were injured and healing.

Narcissa Malfoy attempted to speak to Ginny, but she wouldn't have any of it. She accused her of readying her to take to Voldemort for whatever he and his Death Eaters would want her for and then proceeded to try fighting her off with an old desk chair she had in her room—which was then also taken from her.

—

"I think we will go to the meeting tomorrow and weigh out our options afterwards," Hermione said after her breathing had returned to normal. Ginny didn't speak; she just nodded.

Before long, Ginny silently cried herself to sleep on her bed while Hermione did the same on the floor.

—

*5th May 1998*

The next morning, Hermione woke up, but not on the cold, hard floor she had fallen asleep on. She was back in her room under the covers of her single bed.

She had no bedside table but noticed a food tray on the chest of drawers at the other end of her room. On the tray were water, coffee, scrambled eggs, toast, beans and a small alarm clock with a note stuck to it.

"

The meeting is at 11 am.

"

The note was not signed, but Hermione assumed it was from Blaise despite their differences. Since she had woken up, Blaise had been the kindest to her, as if the past seven years had never happened. Hermione was, of course, grateful, but that didn't ease her suspicions.

The small alarm clock read half past ten, giving Hermione only half an hour to eat and change. She was grateful that she woke up in the same clothes she had fallen asleep in, despite them not being entirely comfortable for overnight.

When eating, Hermione decided that no matter the meeting outcome, she would request a shower and a toothbrush. She felt disgusting and dirty, of course. She was used to the feeling, as she hadn't had the pleasure of such necessities over the past year, but rather than being stuck around Harry and Ron, her best friends, she was around people she hardly knew and people who had bullied her for years. She had no intentions of giving anyone any sort of ammunition.

Once she had finished eating, Hermione didn't have much time left to change her outfit, but she sought to anyway. She opted for the second pair of jeans in her wardrobe and a plain black T-shirt, which were—as predicted—both too big for her. 

Once again, Hermione attempted to fix the issue herself but was stuck in the same struggle she had the night before.

Disappointment clouded Hermione’s face as she desperately called for Winky. She didn’t want to ask too many favours from the elf—she still didn’t like having them, even if it was the lesser of two evils—so she simply asked her to fetch Blaise while she held her jeans up by the waistband. The little elf agreed instantly and ‘popped’ out of the room a second later. However, Blaise never arrived.

Draco did.

He stood in Hermione's doorway with his wand in hand. This time, he wasn't wearing his Death Eater robes; he was wearing plain black trousers and a navy blue jumper that hung loose around him.

"Blaise is dealing with something, so he sent me instead. What can I help you with?" he asked Hermione bluntly. No emotion showed on his face—no smile, no scowl, nothing—it was just blank.

A plain, blank canvas.

"My clothes, they're a little too big. I just need a quick charm performed, please," Hermione mumbled as she gestured to the baggy clothes that her slim figure drowned in. Draco chuckled to himself. “Do you really need me to do that for you? It’s a simple enough spell. Should be easy enough for you to do without a wand,” he laughed. Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she drew in a sharp, aggravated breath. “Have you only come here to stand and laugh, or will you help me?”  

“Alright, alright!” Draco exclaimed dramatically before performing the spell wordlessly, “No need to bite my head off, Little Lion.”

Hermione bowed her head in shame and began twiddling her fingers together in the hopes of some sort of distraction from this humiliating moment. “Everything alright, Granger?” Draco asked, taking a step closer to her. “Yes, everything’s fine,” she responded bluntly, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor.

Draco moved closer until he landed in Hermione’s eye line where he stayed planted, not so close that they were touching but close enough that the hairs on the back of Hermione’s neck stood, and she could feel him hovering over her. “Trauma can affect your ability to cast even with a wand. Take some time, and don’t overdo yourself. It’ll all come back to you eventually,” he spoke.

His words could have classed him as kind if he weren’t Draco Malfoy.

”Until then, feel free to use Winky and Kreacher. That’s what they’re here for,” he continued. Hermione backed away slightly and folded her arms over her chest. She raised her eyes and shot Draco a glare that, if looks could kill, would have done so painfully. “They are not my personal tailors; perhaps that’s what you use them for, but I will not use them for my own basic needs that I am capable of doing myself-“

”Capable of doing yourself? Then why am I here?” Draco retorted, “I didn’t ask for you!” Hermione yelled in response, “Okay, then why did you need Blaise? A house elf is too good help with your basic needs, but a wizard isn’t-“

”A Death Eater isn’t no!”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Hermione felt as though her heart was beating through her chest, and she could feel her eyes burning, but Draco simply stood and stared down at her. His face was blank.

A plain, blank canvas.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them, he looked back down at Hermione. His eyes were empty—there was no sadness, anger, or even his usual self-centred cheer. It was almost like he was empty, and Draco Malfoy wasn’t in there anymore. 

"Right, well, the meeting will start soon. I trust you remember the way down?" Draco asked, "Um, no..." Hermione answered shyly, "What didn't Blaise show you around yesterday?"

"No, I wanted to see Ginny," Hermione explained, “I didn’t fancy the official tour.”

“Well, there's no use in you living here if you don't know the place. I'll have someone show you around after the meeting," Draco said bluntly. Looking again, Hermione noticed that Draco's face read nothing like the blank pages of a book. Once upon a time, getting a rise out of him would have taken no more than one look from Hermione, but now he simply stared at her like she was no more than a ghost.

Hermione didn't think herself intrusive for simply wanting to know how someone was feeling or predict their intentions; in fact, considering her current predicament, she thought it would be smart to do so, yet Draco's facial features remained statue-like.

She thought perhaps he could be occluding, but she couldn't figure out why. Hermione was a wandless witch with very little experience in legilimency.

Draco began to walk out of the room before abruptly stopping and turning back to face her, "are you coming or not?" He asked, cocking a brow. Hermione didn’t respond but simply began to follow.

While silently following Draco, Hermione discovered she was on the second floor. The entire hallway was painted a distasteful bright orange that she didn’t imagine Narcissa would have chosen herself. Although they had never formally met, bright orange didn’t appear to be a very proper pureblood family colour. The colour reminded Hermione of her favourite sweet from a muggle selection called Starburst. She and her dad loved the orange flavour, whereas her mum preferred purple. Until recently, that was a simple memory that Hermione was fond of.

On their way down, Draco commented on everyone's distaste for the colour, but Hermione was too lost in thought to respond.

As Hermione and Draco neared the ground floor, the sound of voices began to ring through their ears. It was clear that they were headed towards multiple people, which brought a sense of warmth and familiarity to Hermione. However, as the two came closer to the end of the staircase, it became apparent that the voices were angry and aggressive. Hermione could feel the pool of sweat form in the palm of her hand, and a pit deepen in her stomach as her nerves began to kick in.

Already, she could tell that this meeting wouldn’t go very well.

Draco led Hermione into a rather large room where the walls were painted mint green, and what was perhaps once a white carpet released the scent of dampness and mould. The room had several mismatched chairs and sofas, some placed nicely so that people could converse, whereas the rest were dotted around in corners of the room where one could sit alone. At the front of the room was a large coal fireplace crowned with a marble mantelpiece that had yet to be cleaned in some time. The black dust had painted the floor around it and had been absorbed by its carpeted canvas.

The room was filled with people Hermione recognised, but not one happy face was in sight; everyone looked scared or angry.

Apparently, the most angry person in the room was Cormac Mclaggen, who was having a full-throated argument with Theodore Nott.

"Why don't you go find Weaslette whilst I deal with this?" Draco whispered into Hermione's ear. She turned to scold him for the nickname he still used to refer to Ginny, but Draco was already walking towards chaos with his wand at the ready. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to make her way through the crowd in search of some familiar faces.

As she pushed past people, the noise began to die, and they all stared at Hermione in disbelief.

She was the last of The Golden Trio.

She was like a rare animal.

Or a collectors prize.

The last of her kind.

And she hated it.

Even in her first year at Hogwarts, she stood out too much for her liking. She was a muggle-born with bad teeth and a lion's mane for hair, and hiding in the library behind stacks of books in solitude was the only place she felt comfortable.

But right now, she wasn't in a library.

There were no stacks of books.

And despite everyone's hushed tones, she could just about hear them all whispering.

“How did they catch Hermione?”

”I thought she was dead.”

”When did Granger get here?”

”How did Hermione get here?”

”Is she in on this?”

“Where is Ron?”

“She looks ill.”

”She looks weak.”

”Does she have her wand?”

”Is she going to kill You Know Who?”

The questions and assumptions went on.

Hermione continued on with her head held high until she saw a familiar flash of orange and made a B-line for the torn, weathered leather sofa on which Ginny, Luna, and Dean were sitting. 

Relieved.

Happy.

Comfortable.

Love.

Pause. 

Look.

Shock.

Nausea.

Arm?

With each step closer to the trio, each new thought and emotion hit all too quickly.

Luna was missing an arm.

Hermione’s heart sank to see the blonde in such a condition. The last time she had seen her during the battle, she was sure Luna had all of her limbs.

Perhaps if Harry had won or Hermione had continued to fight, she still would.

She could have done more to help her friends, but no. She tried to run, and in the process, she lost Ron.

Blinking quickly to push back the tears, Hermione rushed closer to the group, who soon noticed her presence. Ginny pulled her into a tight hug once again.

"I'm so sorry about last night," she said. "I was tired and stressed, and the news of Ron, it just-"

"Don't worry; it's fine," Hermione assured her as she pulled away from her embrace. She turned to Luna, and despite already seeing her condition, she still stared too long. "Don't worry, Hermione. I'm fine. I'm ambidextrous anyway," she told her with a smile.

Hermione had always admired Luna's ability to see the best in a bad situation. It was a trait Hermione wished she had, but rather than do so, get mad, or grieve, she would find solutions, hide in the pages of a book until a bad situation got better, or figure out a way to fix it herself.

After a brief and uncomfortable hug with Luna, she was pulled into Dean's arms. The two had never been close. She barely classed him as a friend, but the hug was needed and almost reassuring. "Merlin! I'm so glad you're alright, Hermione, well alive at least. How are you doing? I heard you were unconscious for two days! And I barely had the chance to speak to you at Hogwarts! Did Potter find the Diadem? Shit- sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Dean, calm down. I'm fine, I promise, and I will tell you everything, but I'm not sure right now is a great time..." Hermione said before she turned to face the front of the room, where Draco, Theodore, and Cormac stood yelling over each other.

"Oh look, Malfoy's come to help," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes and folding her arms stubbornly over her chest. "I don't care what he says or any of them. I don't trust them. For all we know, this meeting is just one big ruse to get us all together, and next thing you know, You-Know-Who is going to stroll in with a big smile on his face, followed by his army of Death Eaters, who will probably be wearing coats made from puffskein fur and they'll kill us all." 

Hermione threw herself onto the sofa with an overdone sigh and brushed her fingers through her matted hair, passing off Ginny’s assumption as pure paranoia.

As Luna, Dean and Ginny continued their conversation, Hermione focused on the ongoing fight at the front of the room. Cormac was red with anger and was utterly oblivious to Professor Slughorn, who stood beside him, attempting to defuse the situation. In his rage, he grabbed a vase from the mantle and threw it at a wall, narrowly missing Draco's head. The vase smashed with a loud bang, and as the pieces rained onto the carpet, everyone turned to watch as the heated argument became intense.

Theodore was quick to pull out his wand in response and attempted to stun him, but Cormac threw himself out of the way, and the spell collided with Colin Creevy instead. Slughorn was the first to run to Colin's aide, while Cormac began weaving through everyone else, using them as shields and searching for other objects to use as weapons.

“I’m not fucking stupid! You’re going to have us all killed!” Cormac yelled before throwing a lamp that he had found on a coffee table, “if you would just listen to us, you insolent arsehole, then we could just talk this out like gentlemen ,” Theodore yelled menacingly. However, he was still trying to find a clear opening to stun Cormac.

Hermione looked towards Draco, but he was gone.

She searched the room quickly before catching him with his wand drawn. She headed for Cormac while Theodore kept hold of his attention.

The snake slithered past Ernie Macmillan and James Tuckett, nudged Parvati Patil out of the way and hovered behind Terry Boot before he found a clear line of sight.

Cormac had his back turned as he continued to argue with Theodore, and Draco raised his wand before pushing Terry out of the way and taking a significant step forward, but just as the spell was about to leave his wand, a tiny Blonde ran in his way and batted the wand from his hand.

Draco stood with a look of confusion and shock slapped onto his face as he stared down at none other than Luna Lovegood.

”What the fuck Lovegood?!” Draco seethed.

”I’m sorry, Draco, but can’t we just talk? Why does it have to come to violence? Haven’t we seen enough of that already?” She pleaded with him; her eyes were big and sad like a puppy’s, and for a second, Hermione saw Draco’s features soften as he gave the blonde a sympathetic look.

Behind Luna, Theodore and Cormac had ended their shouting match and Turned their attention the other way. Cormac, however, still held a book tightly in his grasp.

”Cormac,” Luna began as she turned to face him. Can we not just hear what they have to say before we assume the worst? This just seems like a lot of trouble to go through if they’re only planning on killing us.”

“Oh, piss off Looney!” Cormac shouted.

Without hesitation, Hermione and Ginny leapt up from the sofa, followed by Dean “Don’t you dare call her that!” Hermione quickly yelled as she stormed towards him. “You’re as mad as she is if you agree with her, Granger! Should have known you would lose your mind if you skipped school for a year!” Cormac laughed.

“Lost her mind?!” Ginny started as she closed the gap between herself and Cormac, “She was travelling everywhere to help save all of your arses, you foul git!” Ginny raised her arm as she drew closer to Cormac in preparation to slap him but was quickly halted when Draco pushed her out of the way and pressed his wand to Cormac’s throat.

The room went silent as everyone stood in shock and watched as an upcoming disaster unfolded, “speak to her like that again, Mclaggen and so help me, I will hex you to hell,” Draco seethed as he towered over the boy, “How very Slytherin of you,” Cormac responded, “pointing your wand at someone who doesn’t have one, although I guess if Death Eaters weren’t pathetic cowards, they wouldn’t be licking the arse of a demented fucker with no nose,” he responded with a sly smirk “I don’t need a wand to take care of you,” Draco growled. 

The arguing in the room became louder and louder until there was a sudden silence.

Narcissa had walked in with her wand in hand. She shot a scowl at her son—who quickly stepped away from Cormac—before returning her face to a neutral state. " This will be a lot harder for everyone if we choose to spend our time arguing," Narcissa said to the room. “If you promise to keep quiet, I will remove the silencing charm," she stated calmly. The group reluctantly nodded, and Narcissa removed the charm she had just placed. Once lifted, everyone remained quiet.

Narcissa took - what seemed to be her place - at the front of the room and sucked in a deep breath, "Welcome, everyone. I'm glad that you all managed to join us," she greeted, "I would like for us all to be able to reside peacefully together," she began whilst sending a harsh glare towards Draco, Theodore and Cormac, "and I fear that won't happen unless we all talk and get our opinions out in the open."
"How are we supposed to 'reside peacefully' while living with them? And you, for that matter!" Ginny spat, several 'yeahs' and hums of agreement chorused throughout the room, but Hermione stood silently.

"Well, hopefully, this meeting will help to resolve that problem," Narcissa spoke calmly again.

Draco scoffed quietly, assuming it would go unnoticed, but Hermione's eyes kept subconsciously drawing themselves in his direction. The roll of his eyes and scoff he released annoyed her less than expected.

"And how are we supposed to trust you without our wands?!" Ernie Macmillan shouted, "How are we supposed to trust you with them when you've tried to attack us?" Theodore yelled back, "Please, we don't need our wands to beat the crap out of you! All I need is my hands!" Cormac interrupted as he began to step towards Theodore, "Oh yeah let's go, Mclaggen!" Blaise joined as he defensively stepped in his way.

"Silencio!" Narcissa yelled, and both Cormac and Blaise were silenced, "you will get your ability to speak back when you can have a civilised conversation," she spoke calmly, "I understand that no one here has any reason to trust us, but we don't want to hurt you, and I trust that in time you will all realise that. I bought this safe house when my husband allowed Voldemort-"

Gasps sounded all around the room.

"To live in our house. I no longer fear that monster of a man, but I do know what he is capable of, and I won't allow him to torture people because of their beliefs or blood. I was raised to follow my family's opinions, but when my late cousin Sirius Black-“

Hermione swallowed a gasp as Sirius’s death flashed before her eyes, and a singular tear ran down her cheek.

”Followed his own beliefs. I opened my eyes, yet unlike him, I kept my mouth shut and I regret nothing more.” Narcissa paused and sucked in a deep breath as she looked around the room and stared at everyone’s angry, scared and curious faces, “until the matter of Voldemort's rule has been resolved by my son - Draco - and Adrian Pucey, will be working undercover as Death Eaters, for the time being, this will allow us insight to Voldemort's plans and might even allow us to help others who we were not able to save, and I hope we can all work together to keep ourselves safe."

"So we're just supposed to sit and hide until their two combined brain cells can figure out a way to kill the bastard?!" Ginny yelled, "Unless any of you have any way to help Draco and Adrian, then yes, that is exactly what you should do, unless, of course, your life means so little to you, then you will be obliviated, your wand returned - provided you came with one - and you will be dropped off somewhere," Narcissa stated calmly. However, the threat of obliviation caused an uproar.

Everyone began yelling curse words, and a threat was made to burn the safe house to the ground. After a minute of ongoing yelling, Narcissa rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. With a flick of her wand, everyone went silent.

"To keep everyone else safe, this is what we have to do; you are all welcome to stay here until this is all over; however, when that will be, I'm not sure. Winky and Kreacher are happy to help with your needs; however, there is the small issue of money. When I was found to be a traitor, I was cut off from the Malfoy funds. I have a spare Gringotts account but with the amount of people we have here, it will only last around a year or so. Draco on the other hand, whilst still having access, he only receives a certain amount a month, and until he marries he will not gain free reign of any money," Narcissa explained. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his spot and propped himself up against the wall, glaring at everyone he caught staring, all except Hermione.

Their eyes met briefly before Draco looked to the floor and composed himself.

His face went blank.

A plain, blank canvas.

"I understand, however, that Miss Granger has some experience in trying to kill Voldemort," Narcissa continued as her gaze turned to Hermione, "perhaps you could give Adrian and my son some-"
"No!" Draco interrupted -he had not been silenced again, "Adrian and I will do this alone," he stated matter-of-factly, "Draco, surly she could-"
"I said no!" He yelled.

"I need to change. Pucey and I have to leave soon," he mumbled. And don't worry! I won't bring back any other Death Eaters, so don't bother running around frantically and stressing out my mother!" He yelled before storming upstairs, closely followed by Adrian.

Hermione glanced at Blaise, who was laughing behind the silencing charm.

Narcissa let out a small sigh of disappointment as she watched her son leave before turning her attention back to everyone else “I want to make this clear, we are not here to harm any of you, we are simply trying to keep you safe, outside of this house has turned into a vicious war ground that is bound to become worse by the day and it is being governed by a vicious leader, as you will soon learn Voldemort is quickly changing things and taking care of those he feels need to be taken care of in the most gruesome of ways, the option to leave is there but for the safety of those who choose to stay, obliviation is a necessary sacrifice,” she continued. The room was still silent but every negative emotion from terrified to furious was shown on people’s faces, “there is a protective barrier to shield us around the property so the garden is free for you to explore and the library in the attic is open to you all, sanitary and bathroom essentials will be given to you all and the kitchen is off limits, food will be provided to you by the elves at breakfast, lunch and dinner, this is to ensure that we don’t run out and have enough supplies to last us until more options become available to us, if you have any further questions feel free to come to speak with me at any time.”

With that, Narcissa lifted the silencing charm with a wave of her wand and turned to leave before the uproar began.

Chapter Text

*5th May 1998*

The meeting ended with many private discussions, but in the end, everyone had chosen to stay as it seemed like the safest option so far, and no one fancied the idea of being obliviated and sent out into the world helpless.

Hermione herself spent half an hour trying to convince Ginny to stay. After the threat of obliviation, her plan was to find her wand and fight her way out, but Hermione—being the logical person she is—convinced her that her plan was unlikely to succeed and that perhaps—for the time being at least—it would be best to stay.

After the uproar had settled down and everyone had decided to stay in the safe house, Narcissa returned and promised everyone that once she and the others were sure that everyone in the house wouldn't attack them, they would each have their wands returned. She also informed those who had lost their wands during the battle that they were looking for a way to acquire wands. This gave Hermione a sense of warmth and security. 

Despite being muggle-born, Hermione had become somewhat accustomed to having a wand, especially when defending herself. She had hardly any muscle and wasn't very quick, either. She couldn't even fight off Ginny, let alone a fully equipped Death Eater if needed. With her struggling to do any sort of magic without a wand, she knew very well that should she choose to leave the safe house in the future, she would certainly need one. 

Draco and Adrian weren't seen for the rest of the day, but Winky was sent to show Hermione around - Ginny ended up joining the two as well, as she had been too stubborn to leave her room before Hermione visited her.

The house wasn’t a house at all. It was a mansion.

The house walls were strung all over with ivy, and tiny buds in all manner of colours were peeping through the cracks, welcoming the rising warmth of spring. A large stone fountain sat proudly in front of the home, and tall bushes gated the house, separating it from the surrounding fields as far as the eye could see. The only thing leading to the house was an old dirt road. Still, despite the unlikeliness of someone stumbling across it, Winky assured both Hermione and Ginny that Narcissa and Draco had put up protection charms and wards all around the house. Two miles ahead to be aware and prepared if anyone were to find them. However, this wasn’t enough to convince Ginny she was safe.

The house was four floors in total. It had been owned by an old muggle man who had - indeed - passed away - unfortunately, somewhere inside the house - all of the walls were oddly coloured - most unpleasant to look at and too bright - and all the furniture was mismatched. The ground floor held the kitchen, living room, dining room, common room and downstairs bathroom. The first and second floors held bedrooms - only two had an en suite - and two bathrooms, meaning everyone - aside from Narcissa and Draco - had to share. The third floor held Hermione's favourite part of the house.

The library.

It wasn't as well stocked as the one at Hogwarts; even the restricted section contained more books. It was mainly fictional reads to occupy people, but towards the back of the library, Hermione had found a section filled with non-fiction books—conveniently next to a small sitting area. 

The library was also not brightly coloured like all other rooms. It was very much like an attic. The walls were wooden; the roof was slanted at either side, and wooden beams came down from the ceiling like party streamers. There were two small windows at either end of the room and three on each side of the slanted ceiling, allowing light to enter, but with the added clutter of the bookshelves, the light was blocked in many places, so candles had been placed strategically around the room.

Unfortunately, there was no working electricity in the house, so every room needed to be lit by candles. Those without wands or a strong ability to do wandless magic would have to learn to live like muggles before electricity had been invented. This was something that even Hermione feared she might struggle with.

—

*6th May 1998*

The next day, at 9 a.m., Hermione was woken up by a knock on her door. However, the person didn't wait for a response to invite themselves in—not that it bothered Hermione; it was only Ginny. 

"Morning," she hummed with a smile. " Morning?" Hermione replied uncertainly. Ginny’s apparent pleasant mood had thrown her completely off guard. "How come you're in such a good mood?"

"Well, Luna visited me this morning and told me to drink some draught of peace, so I did, after half an hour of telling her what a stupid idea that would be, but she insisted, and honestly, I think she might have been right because I feel so much better," Ginny explained.

Oddly enough, the idea of Ginny taking a draught of peace potion comforted Hermione and made her feel a tad calmer. She knew this meant that Ginny wouldn't be on edge and jumpy all day, therefore giving Hermione a chance to check out the library properly.

Whilst the house was lovely and beautiful to look at from outside with a stunning garden - admittedly with a little redecorating Hermione would love to live in a home like the safe house - there wasn’t much to do. After only three days of being awake in the house, Hermione began to go mad with boredom.

She needed to do something.

Anything.

And she had hoped - secretly - that something in one of the books at the back of the library might help her figure out a way to defeat Voldemort.

—

Ginny and Hermione decided to join everyone for breakfast. They assumed that they would probably be in the safe house for a while, and hiding away wasn’t likely to help them adjust.

Hermione pulled herself out of bed and quickly threw on a white blouse, black skirt, and tights. However, once again, she needed the help of someone with a wand. She called for Winky and had her send for Blaise, who conveniently appeared in the room seconds later.

"Ah, Granger, Weasley, what can I help you with?" Blaise asked with a playful smile on his face. "Mione's clothes don't fit," Ginny giggled. Well, I can soon fix that!" He replied, pulling out his wand. He looked over at Ginny, half expecting her to flinch or snap another coat hanger, but instead, she stood calmly and waited for Blaise to perform the spell.

"That looks much better on you, Mione," Ginny praised once Blaise had cast the charm. Thanks, Gin," Hermione laughed.

She laughed.

Genuinely.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd done that.

"Now, let's go downstairs! I'm starving!" Ginny moaned in an exaggerated tone. 

"So what's put you in such a good mood, Weasley?" Blaise asked as the three made their way out of Hermione's bedroom, "oh just a little draught of peace. I feel much better now," she chirped, "well, I must say, I do prefer you when you aren't trying to kill me with a coat hanger or a goddamn chair," he laughed to which she did too.

Hermione followed the two down the hallway and watched the unlikely pair get along. The smile on Ginny’s face and the joyous laughs from Blaise almost made her forget why they were all there.

The dining room was neon purple and had one very long table surrounded by mismatched chairs. Sitting around the table, they found Narcissa Malfoy at the head of it—who seemed to be deep in an uncomfortable conversation with Horace Slughorn—joined by Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, James Tuckett, Luna Lovegood, Patil, and Colin Creevy. Hermione presumed that those who weren't already down were either sleeping or choosing to eat in their rooms.

The three sat down at the opposite end of the table to everyone else to avoid awkward conversations that they didn't fancy having. Seconds after taking their seats, their breakfast and drinks appeared in front of them. This morning, Hermione had been given a full English with her usual coffee, whereas Ginny was only given water despite her love for hot chocolate.

"When did you tell the elves that you like coffee?" Ginny asked as she eyed Hermione's cup, "I didn't. I never really thought much of it," Hermione replied. Ginny looked around the table and saw that the only two people who didn’t have a plain glass of water were Narcissa, who was sipping from her cup of tea that came with a small bowl of sugar cubes and Blaise, who was given a large mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, marshmallows and a flake - which to Ginny looked exquisite.

“Okay, judgy. I know it’s not the healthiest choice of breakfast drinks, but this happens to be my favourite,” Blaise proudly stated as he caught Ginny in her drooling daydream. “Oh, no, I wasn’t judging. It’s my favourite as well, my mum—” Ginny paused for a moment as she thought about the loss of her mother. “My mum used to make the most amazing hot chocolates,” Ginny muttered with a small yet sad smile.

Blaise smiled back at her before pushing his mug to Ginny. “Here, have mine. I’ll ask the elves to make you some for breakfast tomorrow.”

“What? No, I couldn’t!” Ginny exclaimed as she attempted to push the mug back, but Blaise quickly stopped her. “I insist. Besides, being stuck here is no excuse for me to lose my amazing figure,” he stated, jokingly flexing his bicep. Ginny chuckled slightly and then sipped the hot chocolate, which left a whipped cream moustache above her top lip, which she quickly wiped off with her sleeve. “It’s not as good as my mum's, but it’ll do,” she joked. “I’ll be sure to let the elves know,” Blaise responded as he dug into his breakfast. 

Ginny went to speak again, but the dining room door opened, and Theodore Nott and Millicent Bulstrode walked in. "Blaise, Granger, Weasley," Millicent nodded as she pulled out a chair beside Blaise. Hermione gave her a curt smile, whereas Ginny stared blankly at her plate. 

Theodore pulled out the chair on the other side of Blaise, placing himself across from Hermione and diagonally from Ginny. He didn't say a word about the seating arrangement, but Hermione didn't miss the glare that he shot her friend.   

Their side of the table began to tuck into their food quietly as they listened to the conversations at the other end of it.

Despite the circumstances, people seemed to try to make the best of a bad situation. At the head of the table, people were smiling and laughing, Horace Slughorn was nattering away, and Colin Creevy was laughing at a face he had made with his food and showing it off to Luna Lovegood.

But Hermione could still see the guilt in Slughorn’s eyes and the fear in Colins. She noticed how people would jump when someone set their cup down too harshly and studied how no one would allow a moment of silence, which would give them time to remember.

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Dean and Cormac strutted in.

Cormac's eyes ran up and down the table, scanning every person until his eyes landed on the little group formed at the far end, away from everyone else. A vicious scowl was carved into his face as he made his way over to the group, "I see Malfoy and Pucey still haven't returned," he stated as his eyes stared daggers into the back of Theodore's head, "they have a job to do Mc'n'cheese. Trust me, if we wanted rid of you, you'd already be gone," Theodore responded bluntly, not moving his eyes from his plate.

Everyone at the other end of the table had clearly sensed the tension and ended their conversations to listen in. While they all looked mildly entertained, Narcissa looked like a disappointed teacher, an expression Hermione had received from McGonagall a few too many times.

"And you two-" Cormac began as he drew his attention to Ginny and Hermione, "what the fuck do you think you're doing sitting with them?! They could turn on you any day now and take you to their master!" He snapped. "And if they were going to do that, why would they have wasted their time saving me when they could have just handed me over and been done with it?" Hermione asked calmly as she placed her fork back on the table and raised her eyes to meet his.

Cormac let out an arrogant scoff, and his eyes grew dark. " Of course, you would defend them, wouldn't you?" He laughed. “What's that supposed to mean?!" She yelled back, placing her hands on the table and pushing her chair back until it tipped and landed on the backrest. Ginny—seeing where this was going—stood up as well, closely followed by Blaise.

"That now Potter and Weasley are dead, Gryffindors Slut is ready to drop her pants for anyone to work her way up in a place!" He stated.
"How dare you!"
"Shut The fuck up, Mclaggen!"
"Watch your tongue!" Hermione, Ginny and Blaise shouted in unison. Small gasps sounded around the room, and even Theodore was out of his seat.

"I always wondered, Granger, which one of them did you lose it to? Potter? Or Weasley? Or was it Krum?" he goaded. Hermione clenched her fists tightly at her side, and her cheeks flushed bright red in humiliation.

"Tell me, when your cherry popped, did you get your mud-blood all over their-" but before he could finish his sentence, he was knocked to the ground. 

Hermione looked around her, and everyone was exactly where they were the last time she had looked around the room, except Narcissa, who was standing from her seat, and Adrian Pucey, who was standing in the doorway leaning on the frame.

Hermione peered over the table and saw the familiar bright blonde head of hair that had left the house meeting in a fit of rage the night before.

It was Draco.

He was straddling Cormac and profusely hitting him. His legs were strategically placed on his arms so he couldn't get a hit. 

Draco was not pulled off of Cormac until he stopped moving and went completely limp.

Everyone had just stared with their jaws agape apart from Narcissa, who looked furious, yet it wasn't until Cormac was unconscious that both Blaise and Theodore pulled Draco off - probably to avoid Draco beating him to death.

Cormac’s face was bloodied and bruised, his eyes swollen, his nose broken, and his lip busted open. Draco’s knuckles had split open from the force of his punches, and his once pale skin was now stained red. His blood and Cormac’s mixing in together.

"With me, now ," Draco growled to both boys, still latched onto his arms. He quickly shook them off and marched out of the dining room as Blaise and Theodore followed him like shadows.    

The room was deadly silent for a moment. Everyone was frozen, not knowing what to do.

"Kreacher!" Narcissa suddenly yelled, and in a second, the old House Elf was in the room. This was the first Hermione had seen the elf since she had come here, but it was safe to say that despite her love for House Elves, she hadn't particularly missed him. "Please take Mr Mclaggen to his room and treat his wounds," she sighed. “Yes, mistress, Kreacher lives to serve Miss Black and her Blood Traitor, Mudblood friends," the House Elf said proudly.

Narcissa slapped her hand on her forehead and dragged it down her face as if she were already prepared to give up on the safe house. Hermione understood her frustration and felt that living here may not be easy.

Once the elf had levitated Cormac out of the dining room, his face swollen and covered in blood, most of the people in the room sat back down and returned to eating their breakfast. However, they were less talkative than when Hermione had first entered the room.

Hermione had been so used to being called a 'mudblood'. Draco and his friends had done it for years, but Cormac had never said it before. No one in Gryffindor had. Her Hogwarts house had always been a safe place for her, but she wasn't at Hogwarts anymore.

She couldn't help but wonder why Draco, who had so many times before called her a mudblood, would defend her in such a way. She had so many questions to ask him, but in the last four days she had been in the safe house, she had only been able to have one conversation with him.

Hermione could no longer say she hated the boy. With everything going on in the world, she had no room in her heart to hate someone for things that now seemed petty, but that didn't mean she had to like him. Draco had been the first person to call her a mudblood. He and his friends called her other names when she walked by in the hallway, they had thrown things at her when she studied in the library or was working in lessons, and despite never laying a hand on her himself, Draco had never stopped Vincent Crabbe or Gregory Goyle from tripping her in the hallways or shoving her as they walked by. Not only did he and his friends hurt and pick on her, but they did the same to her friends.

No, Hermione did not plan to throw old grudges at the people she now shared a home with, nor did she hate them for their wrongdoings, but that did not mean she had to befriend them or seek comfort from them.

Hermione planned to stay at the safe house and help where she could until the time came when Voldemort had been defeated, and she could leave. Perhaps she would move into a flat and get a job working for the ministry, or she could always leave the wizarding world entirely, move somewhere far away and live amongst muggles, get a job in muggle healing, or perhaps in a muggle school, maybe meet a muggle man, get married, have children. She could start a new life and forget all she had lost.

That would be easy.

But when did Hermione ever choose easy?

Hermione didn't know how long she had been sitting in a trance just staring at her half-empty plate, but it had been long enough to draw Ginny's attention, who nudged Hermione with her elbow. Hermione shook her head and turned to face her friend, who looked somewhat concerned, "Are you alright, Hermione? Mclaggen had no right saying what he said, and we all know that-" 

"I'm fine, Ginny, seriously, but I think I would like to be alone for a little bit," Hermione quickly responded.

Before Ginny could say anything else, Hermione pushed her chair back and stood ready to walk out of the room and hopefully have a relaxing shower to calm herself down, but before she could take her first step, Narcissa spoke.

"Actually, Hermione, I was hoping I could speak to you in my room," she said, wording it as if it were a request but as if it was an instruction. Not wanting to be involved in any more arguments that morning, Hermione nodded and then quietly followed Narcissa out of the dining room and up to the first floor, where her bedroom was.

Chapter Text

*6th May 1998*

Narcissa opened the door, revealing a rather large room - at least double the size of Hermione's -with old mismatched furniture placed spaciously around, making the room appear almost empty. Narcissa led Hermione to a set of blue velvet chairs by the window and gestured for her to sit, "Winky!" She called softly, and the tiny elf popped into the room with a smile. Hermione had realised that people tended to ask Winky for assistance whenever she was around rather than Kreacher. "Would you please bring me and Miss Granger some tea and biscuits?" She asked the elf. Hermione couldn't help but release a small smile at the use of her manners. "How does Miss Granger be liking her tea?" The elf squeaked, "three spoons of honey, please- uh, if we have it," Hermione said shyly.

Narcissa chuckled slightly and shook her head a little. " That is the same as Master Draco has his tea, Miss," the small elf said like a small child telling a secret. “There is no need to discuss my son and his drinking habits, Winky. Please just bring the tea," Narcissa pushed. Clearly, the elf had spoken out of term. "Yes, Miss, sorry, Miss," Winky said quickly before disappearing in the blink of an eye. 

"Miss Granger, I would like to apologise to you for how my son acted last night and this morning. I would also like to apologise for how Mr Mclaggen spoke to you. When he wakes up, I will speak to him and remind him that this safe house was created to fight against opinions like the ones he shared today, and if he repeats anything so derogatory, he will be obliviated and made to leave," Narcissa spoke softly, "there's no need to apologise, Mrs Malfoy-"
"Please call me Narcissa, dear," she interrupted. “Alright, then, please call me Hermione. " She nodded. Hermione felt weird dropping all of the formalities with the older witch if it was not to be reciprocated. "But the actions of your son and Cormac are not your fault."

Once Hermione had finished her sentence, a small 'pop' sound was heard, and Winky appeared, carrying a tray with their tea on it. " Your teas are here," she squeaked. “Thank you, Winky. That will be all," Narcissa said, and once again, the elf was gone.

"Hermione, if it wasn't already apparent, my son can be rather stubborn. He doesn't trust easily and believes he's a lot stronger than he is. He likes to do things alone, but that doesn't mean he should. I would greatly appreciate it if you could help him find a way to destroy the monster who now governs England."
"I'm sorry, Governs?" Hermione questioned, "It's only been four days since he- defeated Harry," she choked out forcefully. "Yes, well, Voldemort likes to work quickly and get things over and done with. The day after he killed Mr Potter, he declared himself Minister for Magic, and the Royal family ruling over England was killed publicly. I understand you won't have read The Daily Prophet since you came here, but Voldemort has not hidden any of the executions he has performed. Most of them were muggles, and the odd muggle was born. There were no Hogwarts students or staff; however, there has been no mention of anyone who was captured or escaped The Battle. However, a few of us have our assumptions about why," Narcissa explained.

Narcissa wasn't wrong; it had been some time since Hermione had held the newspaper in her hands, but the thought of reading about death repulsed her so much that she didn't want to touch another paper again.

"Voldemort is desperate for power. He is working quickly, and each day we wait is a day his forces grow stronger," Narcissa said as she brought her cup of tea to her lips and took a sip. “I have been trying to contact any remaining members of The Order, but they're hard to find, specifically my sister, Andromeada. Perhaps you know her?"
"I know of her, but I've never met her, only her daughter, Nymphadora. She died four days ago. She and Profess- Remus Lupin had a son, Teddy, Harry's godson. I suspect Andromeada is taking care of him now," Hermione babbled sadly, but she did not allow the tears to fall from her eyes, which were fighting to break out. Despite trying to fight it, Narcissa noticed the change in Hermione's expression and waved her wand, conjuring up a tissue that she passed to her.

It all still felt so fresh in Hermione’s mind—the war, the death, all of it. The more she hoped she had grieved everyone already and could move on, the more a new death popped into her mind, and it hurt all over again.

She wondered if it would ever stop.

"I heard a lot about my Niece. It's such a shame I never had the chance to meet her," Narcissa said as Hermione wiped her eyes and reached for her cup of tea. "My sisters and I were close when we were younger, always stuck together, but when Andromeada was disowned for marrying a muggle-born, my family stopped speaking of her, even Bellatrix. They all pretended she didn't exist; she was a disgrace in their eyes and no longer our problem. I, however, tried to stay in contact with her. I went to the wedding and spoke to her for as long as possible until it became too risky, I wasn't brave like her or my cousin Sirius. I hid my beliefs and followed everyone else like a Unicorn," she scoffed. The regret was clear in her eyes. "I wanted to see my sister, but there was never a good time. I wanted her to meet Draco so he would have better influences than his father and me," she confessed, "but it's too late now," she said regretfully. Hermione didn't know how to respond, so she stayed quiet.

"I never understood blood supremacy; it never made sense to me, but I was scared of my parents. I only knew one life, and unlike my sister, I wasn't brave enough to lose it. I relied on my family's money, and I've never had to work a day. Not a real job anyway. I had hoped Lucius would share my beliefs that blood was just blood, but it was quite the opposite. He hated anyone less than purebloods and despised the idea of people so pure procreating with anything less. So once again, I was silenced by my fear of being disowned and being on my own," she sighed. Hermione could tell she was disappointed in herself, but she couldn't give her words of encouragement because she knew that Narcissa could have done better and been stronger. Such a hateful mindset, but they were not living in a time when things needed to be sugar-coated.

"When Draco was six, I took him to the park where he made friends with a young halfblood boy named Elliott. Of course, he didn't know what blood status meant, so he never asked. The boy would come over and play with Draco frequently. Once, he came with his parents, his mother pureblood and his father muggle-born, and Lucius was home. The moment he found out about their blood status, he kicked them out and beat me for letting Draco play with ‘ scum ’ Of course, I tried to explain that I didn't know, but he told me I should have asked sooner, he beat me black and blue with his cane and wouldn't let me take Draco to the park anymore. He won't remember. When he had asked about Elliott, Lucius obliviated him. After that, the pureblood lessons started, and Lucius's beliefs were inflicted on Draco until Draco was made to torture muggle-borns, halfbloods and blood traitors by Voldemort and Bellatrix. He held those same beliefs, but I assume you're already aware of that."

Hermione nodded in agreement but still didn't speak.

She was beginning to pity Narcissa and Malfoy, both abused and brainwashed.

Noticing that Hermione was struggling to come up with the words to reply, Narcissa took another sip of her tea and continued, "I want Voldemort gone, dead, and forever this time. That monster came into my home, tortured my son and me, forced my son to take his mark and become one of his delusional slaves and then ordered my son to kill a man that even he could not kill," she ranted, continuously referring to Draco as her son as if she needed reminding, "I had hoped that Harry would have been able to get the job done, but as he did not, Draco seems to have made it his responsibility.

I love my son Hermione, but he needs help completing this task. I wonder if he knows where to start. I understand you have put years of effort into ridding the world of Voldemort. Still, I beg of you, Hermione, please , I know Draco can be stubborn and mean, and sometimes you just want his face to be against the back end of your hand - he gets it from his father - but we will all be stuck here for much longer than we would all like if you don't help him."

Narcissa's bright blue eyes had gone wide and glistened with the tears she was pushing back. Hermione felt as though she could see right into her soul.

Hermione gave a deep, frustrated sigh, but that alone told Narcissa what her answer would be, and she had to suppress a smile before Hermione continued so as not to throw her off her decision. "I will help, but it will take time, planning, and privacy. I will need the library and the newspaper every morning. Quills and notepads if possible," Hermione listed. “Anything you need," Narcissa pushed.

"Lastly, you will need to try your hardest to contact any remaining members of The Order. Ginny can help you there. Many of us don't have our wands, and if there is another battle, we won't do well with other peoples. There's also not enough of us who can fight. If you want- Voldemort dead, then we need numbers."

—

Narcissa had agreed to all of Hermione's terms, and after they had finished their tea, Hermione finally left to shower.

Everyone on her floor shared the bathroom except Draco, who had the bedroom with the second en suite.

Hermione silently cursed whoever had designed this mansion and assumed that only one shared bathroom per floor was enough for this amount of bedrooms.

It was small and painted turquoise—a disgusting colour for a bathroom, Hermione had thought—but its oddly coloured walls matched the rest of the house. It had an old peach-coloured bath with a shower inside and a matching-coloured toilet and sink, all equally unappealing to the eye. Above the sink was a mirror with a large crack down the middle.

Hermione stared at her reflection properly for the first time in over a year. Her face was angular and bony, her skin pale, and her hair had returned to its bushy state, which she had kept until the third year when she finally managed to tame it.

She was almost unrecognisable.

She quickly turned away from the mirror and set the shower running. It was old; there was hardly any pressure from the shower head, and it took a few minutes for the water to heat up, but once Hermione had climbed in and was underneath the water, she felt the most relaxed that she had in a long time. 

She could feel every speck of dirt come off of her and every soothing drop of water as it hit her skin. She could finally run her hands through her hair without the urge to repeatedly wash them afterwards or get her fingers stuck in its knots. For the first time in a year, she felt clean.

During her first shower in months, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder why there had been no public executions of anyone who had been there during the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione assumed that if Voldemort wanted to be feared, then his most logical tactic would be to showcase what would happen to any of those who tried to fight against him, but according to Narcissa, there had been no mention of anyone who had been captured whatsoever.

Hermione figured it would be best to get ahold of the previous newspapers and analyse them herself. Perhaps something had been missed, or some hidden message had been written on other pages to manipulate fear without people realising it.

Once out of the shower, she called Winky - who appeared to be in a rush - and requested a toothbrush, hairbrush and hair bobble. Fifteen minutes later, the items were brought to her by Kreacher, who had been muttering about how ashamed the black family would be if they knew he had been helping a mudblood. Nevertheless, Hermione brushed off the comment and readied herself, throwing back on the clothes she had chosen that morning and tying her hair into a high ponytail. She planned to go to the library for a long day of research. She had yet to plan to keep anyone in the safe house longer than they had to be.

Hermione made her way into the library, which, at first glance, appeared to be empty. It wasn't until she had made her way towards the back sitting area that she found Draco Malfoy surrounded by stacks of books, three newspapers, two notepads, a pot of ink and expensive-looking quills. He was no longer in the Death Eater robes that he had been wearing that morning when he tackled and beat Cormac. He wore a plain white T-shirt and a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms. Hermione found it rather odd to see Draco wearing such a muggle outfit.

"Is something the matter, Granger? Or am I just so good-looking that you would rather stare at me than bury your nose inside one of the many books inside this room?" Draco suddenly asked, his eyes still staring intently at the book in his hands and his expression completely blank. "Oh—um, no, sorry," she stuttered. “I—um—I just wanted to thank you for this morning—with Cormac, I mean," she mumbled.

She didn’t know why she was thanking him. She hadn’t come to the library to thank him at all. She wondered why he had defended her –if that was even what he was doing– but she had no interest in asking him.

She couldn't help but wonder why she was so nervous.

Of course, she had had many unpleasant interactions with Draco over the years, but this wasn't usually how they went.

"He deserved it. He shouldn't have said any of those things to you. I hear he's still breathing, though. Lucky sod," Draco mumbled, still not removing his eyes from the book.

Hermione—who could clearly tell that Draco was in no mood to talk—shifted her body and began to look at one of the bookshelves nearest to her. It was stocked with many non-fiction reads.

Hogwarts: A history.

Healing And Surviving Death.

Godric Gryffindors History.

The Darkest Wizards.

The books all seemed to lead back to Voldemort in some way, and Hermione assumed that Draco probably had the most useful ones on the table in front of him.

Hermione picked up two books about Gryffindor—hoping that they would have some information about The Sword of Gryffindor inside—and then she reached for Healing and Surviving Death. "The fiction books are at the front end of the library, Granger. I am almost certain you don't have a book report due on anything over here," Draco said blankly before Hermione's hand had even managed to graze the spine of the book she was reaching for.

"I don't fancy reading fiction," she replied bluntly as she pulled Healing and Surviving Death off the shelf. Hermione heard Draco slam his book shut, the rustle of his clothes as he left the chair he was sitting in, and his shoes hitting the wooden floor as he strode towards her.

Hermione turned her body slightly and looked to see Draco less than an inch away from her. His back bent somewhat so he could hover over her. Suddenly, Hermione was highly aware of his muscles pushing through the tight fabric of his T-shirt; his shoulders were big and broad, and his arms were thick and veiny. His face was sharp and slim, but not in the malnourished way hers was, and his eyes were silver like his father’s. This was not the sickly ghost of a boy she went to school with in the sixth year.

"Has he always been this… attractive?" She wondered.

"Has he always been this intimidating?"

Draco snatched the book Hermione had just grabbed out of her hand and twisted his wrist slightly so he could get a better look, "and why might I ask, are you reading this?" He asked cocking a brow. Suddenly feeling relatively small, Hermione shifted her gaze and stared at the floor as she mumbled, "Just- research."

Draco stated in the meeting yesterday that he didn’t want her help in taking down Voldemort. She could only assume that Draco would stand firm on this decision.

A low growl escaped Draco's mouth, and he stepped forward, forcing Hermione to step back, resulting in her dropping the other two books she was carrying, which Draco absentmindedly kicked to the side. "Research for what?" He seethed through his teeth, but when she didn't answer, he let his anger get the better of him and pushed her small frame against the bookcase and cornered her there using his arms. A small gasp escaped Hermione's mouth in shock, and she placed one hand on his chest, and the other gripped a shelf behind her for balance. "Did my mother put you up to this, Granger? Did she tell you that I needed help or some shit?" He questioned aggressively, "I just thought that things would be over sooner if I help-" 

"If you helped?! I don't need your help, Granger!" His voice roared, "I have spent the last year of my life working out how to kill him! If you just let me help-" 

"Oh, what a surprise! Gryffindor's Golden Girl wants to put her brain to good use!" He yelled in an exaggerated tone, "You've been here four fucking days, Granger! Two of them you weren't even conscious for, and you're already trying to stick that annoyingly big brain of yours where it doesn't belong! You’re not even able to use your magic without a wand. What ‘ help ’ could you possibly be?!" 

"Doesn't belong?! Doesn't fucking belong?! How dare you, Malfoy! I spent the last year helping Harry so that he could kill Voldemort, and we were so fucking close! So don't you dare tell me where my brain does and doesn't belong, Malfoy!" She yelled back.

Hermione hadn't missed the change in Draco's expression from neutral to angry, but despite her wanting to drag an emotion out of him, this was not quite what she wanted.

"Oh yeah? And how did the last year work out for you, Granger? Hm? How many times were you nearly caught? How many times were you caught? You were brought to my manor, for fuck sake! And tortured right there on my drawing room floor! In front of me! And there was nothing I could do to stop it! I even gave up my fucking wand and let Potter take it so that you could escape, and my aunt crucioed me for hours because I let that happen!" 

"That's why you won't let me help? Because I might screw up your working undercover and let that result in you being tortured?!" 

"I never said that," Draco seethed, his face noticeably turning red in anger, a stage in his usual fits Hermione had only seen once or twice during their time at Hogwarts.

"Well, that's good because I don't think that's really why you don't want my help." 

"Tell me then, Granger, why I don't want your help? You know, seeing as you're so smart, of course, you would know the answer to that," Draco stated as he took a small step back from Hermione, "I think that you don't want me researching because this is some sort of battery farm-" 

"Battery what?" 

"I think the reason that there have been no public executions of Hogwarts students and staff is that you're keeping us all here for some sick reason that Voldemort-" 

"How dare you! How fucking dare you!" Draco's voice roared again as he pushed Hermione back up against the bookcase, his face glowing red and his eyes bloodshot with rage.

Hermione gasped in pain as the shelf dug into the small of her back. Draco didn’t care.

"Do you really think that's what this is? Some sick, twisted way of leading you all to your deaths? You really think that's the man I am?!" 

"If not, then why won't you let me help?! Why won't you let me do research?! I can help you, Malfoy! Please! At least let me tell you what I already know," Hermione begged.

Suddenly, Draco pulled away from Hermione and released her from his human cage. "Get out," he mumbled. "What?" 

"I said get the fuck out!" His voice roared as he punched the bookcase beside Hermione's head. She let out a small yelp and began to edge away from him.

Draco closed his eyes, and his once angry expression was again neutral. Once he opened his eyes, he stared directly at Hermione but said nothing before turning around and going back to his table. Hermione quickly pulled herself together and left the library without saying another word.

Chapter Text

*6th May 1998*

After Hermione left the library, she ran to her room and hid until dinner, where she found herself trapped between Colin Creevy and Horace Slughorn - who had made it his mission to talk her ears off. Ginny and Blaise sat across from her as they silently laughed at the unfortunate situation Hermione had found herself in; however, when Blaise had sniggered a little too loudly, Horace assumed that he was listening in on their conversation about his time at Hogwarts and thought he was intrigued. Therefore, his entertainment was short-lived, and Horace began to bore him with his stories as well.

Hermione had not failed to notice that since she had left Ginny that morning, she seemed to have warmed up to Blaise. She wondered if the calming draught was still in her system or if Ginny had begun to see the reality of the situation and chosen to accept her fate.

Their fate.

Despite Horace's constant blabbering, dinner had started off nicely, and the tension was low—maybe not even there at all. Cormac Mclaggen hadn't turned up. Hermione was grateful. She assumed that he was either still unconscious or was choosing to eat in his room after the events that had taken place that morning.

Everything was nice and almost reminded Hermione of dinners at Hogwarts.

That was until Draco and Adrian entered wearing their Death Eater uniforms.

Suddenly, everyone went quiet - as if they had remembered where they were - and the air seemed to thicken. Hermione didn't stare at Draco long enough to make eye contact with him as she watched his silver eyes scan the table, his eyes never successfully landing on a specific person, almost as if he was searching for the right person. Hermione turned her head back to face Horace and quickly drew his attention back to her with a simple "You were saying," once again, the old man continued to tell his stories.

However, this was noticed. Ginny watched as her friend quickly averted her gaze and egged Horace on to continue, and she instantly knew something was wrong.

As Draco and Adrian walked past Hermione, she felt goosebumps form on her skin and tried to hide her involuntary shiver as Horace continued to speak to her obliviously.

She had spent the rest of dinner hardly touching her food and keeping her eyes on Horace—although barely listening to his constant babble—and occasionally nodding to pretend she was listening.

It wasn't until Draco and Adrian stood and announced that they would be gone until later that night that an idea hit Hermione. She kept her head down and pondered the new thought. She had concluded that Draco couldn't stop her from doing research or kick her out of the library if he wasn't there to do so.

Once Draco and Adrian had left the dining room, Hermione waited precisely three minutes - which she had counted tiredly in her head - and then quietly excused herself from the table, cutting Horace off as she did so. The old professor smiled and suggested they speak more later before he turned fully towards Ginny and Blaise, who wore bored expressions.

Hermione made her way to the library and noticed that the back shelves had more books than they had that morning. The small table that Draco had been using was now empty except for two candles placed in the centre.

"Winky!" Hermione shouted, but there was no reply, "Winky!" She called again, but still, no elf appeared. Realising she must be busy, Hermione let out a breathy and frustrated sigh before calling for Kreacher, who appeared in seconds; an unmistakable scowl was painted on his face. "Mudblood called?" He said in his usual croaky voice. Hermione brushed off the insult, knowing fully that this was just how the elf had been brought up, and ideals like that were more rigid to knock out of older elves, "could you please fetch me some quills, parchment and some ink?" Hermione requested in a soft tone, "Of course, mudblood." Kreacher replied in an eerie voice.

The old elf popped out and was back seconds later with everything Hermione had requested. The parchment was old and ripped on the edges, clearly a supply Narcissa was finding hard to come by, and the ink pot was barely half full. Hermione had concluded that she might have to rely on her memory more than she had hoped.

"One last thing," Hermione began before the elf could pop back out, "I need as many newspapers from the last few days, as many you can get. Since Voldemort won preferably, but even just today's will do," she instructed, "ah yes, my Mistress has kept them all since you have arrived," the elf stated before abruptly leaving the room and popping back in with a stack of four newspapers. Kreacher placed them on the table by the other things he had brought her and left seconds after she told him she had everything she needed.

The first paper Hermione picked up was published the day after The Battle Of Hogwarts. The paper had been used and scrunched up. It had been absentmindedly thrown in a bin after coffee had been spilt on it by the looks of it as the picture of Voldemort who was stood proudly in front of the ruins of Hogwarts, Harry's dead body laid behind him carelessly thrown on the ground was covered in a coffee stain, and the paper was stiff and dry.

3rd May 1998

The Dark Lord Triumphs!

Years after the Dark Lord has fallen, he redeems himself and kills the famous Harry Potter, once known as 'The Boy Who Lived'.

After winning The Battle Of Hogwarts, he generously offered the students and staff who dared to fight against him a chance at redemption, offering them a place in his Pure World. The few who stepped forward and accepted his offer have been forgiven by our Lord and Saviour. However, reporters have yet to have the opportunity to speak to these few witches and wizards. As for those who refused his offer, most are presumed to have been killed; however, it has been hard to decipher who was killed in partaking in The Battle and who was killed in the aftermath. 

Others who travelled up from the nearby village, Hogsmeade, claim that they saw a group of Death Eaters—led by Bellatrix Lestrange—forcefully dragging a large group of people away from the school grounds. Some even claim to have seen smaller groups of people running into The Forbidden Forest.

Due to these claims, it has been presumed that some traitors have escaped, but fear not! There are already people who are in the works of finding out who the escapees are, Corban Yaxley - who worked for The Ministry Of Magic before The Dark Lord's miraculous victory as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - said to one of our reporters "I have the very best witches and wizards in my department identifying bodies, arrested traitors, and recruits whilst going through the Hogwarts and Ministry files to figure out who the escapees are, we should have them all listed and their names and faces plastered over every wall in the country by the end of the week. These people are filthy and polluted, which makes them dangerous, but rest assured, we will arrest them all, and justice will be served!"

There is no word yet as to who will be the new Minister for Magic, but for the time being, Delores Umbridge has taken her "right full" and "hard-earned" place in the previous Minister's office.

More on The Dark Lords' plans tomorrow.

~Rita Skeeter.

As suspected, the article was all propaganda and a way to make Voldemort seem more favourable while simultaneously scaring the public to avoid rage and a revolution.

The words 'arrest' and 'arrested'—among other things in the article—made Hermione's blood boil. The words were so sophisticated and official that it seemed as if their 'arrests' were justified.

Hermione found herself tearing the corners of the pages, something she had never dared to do to a book, paper, or magazine before. She had always taken care of whatever she had been reading. She believed that no matter how little you agreed with a person's words, you should always have at least a little respect for how they were written.

Hermione flicked through the rest of the newspaper, hoping to find more news about what was happening in the world, but there wasn’t much else of any use within the pages.

There were articles on Quidditch, fashion, pureblood gossip, and one article about Narcissa Malfoy’s betrayal towards The Dark Lord. Hermione read through the article twice, but it didn’t tell her anything that she didn’t already know.

The article spoke of how Narcissa lied to The Dark Lord about Harry being dead. It spoke about how Bellatrix –her own sister– had overheard her and informed Voldemort of her betrayal. It spoke briefly of Lucius and Draco and how they remain loyal to The Dark Lord’s cause. But it told Hermione nothing that was of any substantial use.

The rest of the first newspaper comprised gossip, advertisements, and restaurant recommendations. Hermione screwed up the paper and tossed it to the side before moving on to the next.

4th May 1998

Our new Minister For Magic!

Read the following paper that Hermione had picked up. Underneath the headline was a picture of Voldemort standing in front of the 'Magic Is Might' statue in the centre of the Ministry Of Magic.

This morning, The Dark Lord claimed his place as Minister For Magic and quickly set himself up in The Minister's office. 

After boldly announcing himself to the public today he made several promises; "I promise you all, my loyal subjects, I will rid our world of Muggles, Mudbloods and Blood Traitors alike, we will have domain over the world again and rid it of the pests that have infested it! There was once a time when witches and wizards ruled this world until the Muggles invented their weapons. Afraid of our power, they hunted and killed us for sport! And what have we become now?! We hide in the shadows as if we are lesser than them! But we shall hide no more!" 

The public responded well to his promises, and many cheered. However, the Dark Lord was not finished there: "I must warn those of you who seek to betray myself and, therefore, The Wizarding World, if you dare to do so, you will be found, and you will be severely punished." 

It is clear to all of his subjects as emphasised in his powerful words that our Dark Lord wants what is best for us and our world.

Delores Umbridge was quickly moved out of The Minister's office and back into her previous one. When questioned about the situation, she simply said she was happy that The Wizarding World finally had a firm head leading it and was sure that The Dark Lord would lead us to greatness. When asked if she thought she could do a better job, she made no comment.

There is no word yet as to what happened to those arrested after The Battle Of Hogwarts.

Come back tomorrow to find out more.

~Rita Skeeter.

More propaganda…

5th May 1998

Muggle Royal Family is Dead!

Underneath the headline was a picture of the Royal family standing stiffly in a line in front of Buckingham Palace. The picture was still until a bright light flickered in front of the camera, and then the picture replayed. Despite the picture being colourless, Hermione was no fool and knew exactly which spell was cast. It was because of this that she had to push herself to continue reading.

Last night, after The Dark Lord took his place as Minister For Magic, he bravely made his mark on The Muggles and killed their royal family before taking his rightful place as King Of England.

Hermione chuckled to herself darkly, finding it hard to believe that the Daily Prophet was painting this as a good thing. The murder of innocent muggles made no sense to her, nor did making it public.

Though, Hermione knew Rita Skeeter well enough by now, to know that the journalist would say anything for a good payday.

The Dark Lord moved into the palace last night and executed all of the muggle workers this morning where their Royal Family had died the night before. He wouldn't allow any reporters to interview him, but he did say this; "Muggles, traitors, and any who aren't pure can make this easy and turn themselves in willingly, or you can run and hide, my followers do love a good chase." 

The Dark Lord has been held up inside his palace ever since. Still, Bellatrix Lestrange, along with her husband Rodolphus Lestrange and his brother Rastaban Lestrange, have been seen holding people at wand point and leading them into the palace. 

A few witnesses claim to have seen several tortured and killed if they had attempted an escape. No one who isn't a Death Eater, nor any bodies have been seen leaving the palace. If any have been killed, they could have been disposed of using the floo network or by apperation to avoid panicking The Wizarding World, and this just further proves how much The Dark Lord cares for his subjects.

As Hermione was finishing the article, she heard the Library door open and quickly shoved the newspapers under the table. In her panic, she was not quiet and very nearly knocked over the pot of ink that sat untouched on the table. This near accident caused her to move slower, and in the corner of her eye, she could see the shadow of a person grow larger under the flicker of the candlelight.

Hermione was worried that the person would be Draco, and she was not prepared for another argument. However, she wasn't sure whether to feel worse or relieved when she heard multiple sets of shoes hit the wooden floor and saw a second shadow appear from behind the first.

It wasn't until Blaise stepped into sight from behind the bookcase, closely followed by Theodore, Luna and Ginny, that Hermione could finally release the breath she had been absentmindedly holding in anticipation and fear.

"See, she's here. In one piece, if you’d believe it. Good to see you haven’t been swallowed by books, Granger. We can go now," Theodore groaned as he folded his arms over his chest, "ah ah, what ya' doing, Granger?" Blaise asked cocking a brow. Hermione pushed the papers further under the table under the impression that Blaise and Theodore would know about what had happened between Draco and Hermione earlier that day and would either tell her she had to leave or would just go straight to Draco. 

She really didn't see his problem, but she didn't need to create more for herself. While Draco and Adrian were out doing their 'duties,' it was the perfect opportunity for Hermione to figure out how best to kill Voldemort, and it wouldn't help her out in the slightest if she had to avoid Theodore and Blaise as well. 

As the last remaining member of The Golden Trio, she couldn't help but feel like she had to figure out how to kill Voldemort. She wanted to be the one to do it; she didn't want the last seven years to have been for nothing.

"Just- um- doing a little- reading," she stuttered, her eyes never meeting Blaise's. "Reading?" Blaise began as he moved closer to Hermione, "So you're reading a blank piece of parchment?" He asked as his eyes moved over to the only piece of paper on the table that Hermione hadn't thought to hide. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously, unsure how to respond. Her eyes met his, and all she could think was "Bloody Slytherin."

"Hermione is reading a newspaper," Luna chirped innocently. Everyone curiously turned their heads towards the blonde girl who stood obliviously smiling like a little girl. See, she's holding a few under the table, rather tightly. I'd be careful, Hermione. You'll struggle to read them if they're all crumpled," she continued when she realised no one knew what she was talking about. 

The palms of Hermione's hands were growing increasingly sweaty as she watched Blaise, Theodore, and Ginny look under the table, "Why are you hiding the papers, Granger?" Blaise asked, "What are you up to?" Theodore followed.

Hermione released a frustrated sigh and dragged the newspapers from under the table, "I'm trying to get us all out of here as soon as possible!" She yelled, "I shouldn't have to be treading on bloody eggshells around everyone in this house for doing what I have been doing for the past seven years! My best friends are both dead because of Voldemort, and I refuse to sit in this fucking safe house staring at the walls that just make me want to be sick, doing nothing because, for whatever reason, Malfoy thinks he can do it by himself!" 

Hermione cursed her eyes for beginning to water, and she desperately fought not to cry. However, she found it harder not to do so as everyone stared at her in shock. No one spoke. No one blinked. Hermione couldn't even be sure that any of them were breathing.

Her outburst was unexpected, to say the least, though Theodore couldn’t help but find it a tad bit amusing to watch the Golden Girl lose her shit.

"Malfoy spoke to you then," Blaise finally spoke after a moment of uncomfortable silence. 

"Yes," Hermione mumbled in response. "He doesn't want me helping," she hissed. Wait, what?!" Ginny exclaimed. “But you know more than anyone! Doesn't that Jack-ass know that?!"
"Well, it's probably because-" Blaise began, but Theodore quickly cut him off. "It doesn't matter why he doesn't want her helping, if he said she can't then she shouldn't be."
"I think she should," Blaise stated before Ginny had the chance to speak.

Everyone turned to face Blaise with a look of confusion, but he stood straight with a smirk painted onto his face, "She's right; no one wants to be here longer than they have to be, and Weasley is right. Granger knows more than anyone in this bloody house. I guess what I'm saying is, what can we do to help?"

Hermione sat with her jaw dropped in shock. Her biggest fear had been that Blaise and Theodore would tell her she couldn't do her research, that she couldn't plan and help out, and that they would kick her out of the library and tell Draco, but Blaise had surprised her. From what she remembered at Hogwarts, Blaise was one of Draco's closest friends. She expected his loyalties to be set, but this had surprised her so much that she was speechless.

"Are you kidding?!" Theodore snapped. "If he finds out about this, he will kill us! Hand us to You-Know-Who right away!"
"Then he better not find out," Blaise laughed. So, Granger, what can we do to help?"

Hermione pondered for a moment before walking over to the bookshelves and picking out a series of books that she had read herself, or that seemed to be more relevant to the situation: " If you're serious about helping, then you can do research on Horcruxes and Goblin-made weapons. I need to figure out Voldemort's plans and work out the best way to get to him and the snake."

—

The paper didn't lie. By the end of the week, Corban Yaxley had figured out who the missing people were, and their faces were always at the end of every newspaper. However, Hermione was glad to see all of the names that she saw that didn't belong to the people already in the safe house.

George Weasley.

Arthur Weasley.

Percy Weasley.

Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Minerva McGonagall.

Seamus Finnigan.

Justin Finch-Fetchley.

Pomona Sprout.

Fleur Delacour.

Angelina Johnson.

The list went on and on and on.

All of the names both reassured and scared Hermione; the names she couldn't find terrified her. She re-read the paper six times before she was able to put it down.

The next two weeks were spent doing research with Hermione, Ginny, Blaise, and sometimes even Theodore. Theodore would occasionally make a comment about what would happen if Draco caught them, but Hermione found that Theodore was actually rather smart and absorbed knowledge very well.

Blaise, Ginny, and Theodore had spent the two weeks learning about the things Hermione had instructed them to—they had even taken to calling her Professor Granger. Ginny and Theodore caught on quickly and needed little explaining. Blaise, on the other hand, had to ask a question every two minutes. After the first week, Ginny was able to answer them all. Theodore, on the other hand, would grow frustrated and leave without saying a word.

Hermione spent daily reading The Daily Prophet and learning more about what Voldemort was doing. Over two weeks, he had held ten public executions of forty-seven muggles, muggle-borns and blood traitors who had been tortured and killed via killing curse in front of Buckingham Palace, always with a crowd. She presumed that it would always end up in the paper the next day, a scare tactic to force the public into obedience. 

Though Hermione had noticed that none of the people executed took part in The Battle Of Hogwarts.

Voldemort had taken Scotland, Wales, France, Spain, and Italy in two weeks. Ireland had been proving more stubborn than he had expected—so the paper said—and rumours had started to stir that Voldemort was planning on taking it by force.

Theodore had also been reading the papers frantically for any mention of what had happened to the people who had been captured during or after the battle; more specifically, he had been looking for any mention of Pansy.

Hermione had spoken to Narcissa about getting her any muggle books on Buckingham Palace so she could search for a possible way in. She had also been sending the elves to the black market—that had opened up since Voldemort took control—to see if they could get hold of Basilisk venom or Goblin-made weapons, but so far, they had not had such a look.

Neither Draco nor Adrian gave any indication as to when they would return to the safe house, so Hermione, Ginny, Blaise and Theodore would have Luna keep an eye out and have her tell them if they had returned, but over the last two weeks there had been no close encounters so the four had begun to become more comfortable when they were doing their research which was a good thing seen as they were taking in more information rather than flinching whenever they heard a noise.

*20th May 1998*

On this particular night, Theodore had gone to bed after dinner, and Ginny and Blaise had left an hour before, but Hermione insisted on staying and finishing her book on the layout of Buckingham Palace. However, the book was useless and was more or less just facts about who had lived there and special events that had been held in each of the rooms. It was because of this that Hermione's eyes had gone incredibly heavy, and she had decided to let her eyes rest for just a second.

This second led to two hours with all of their notes, books, and newspapers carelessly splayed across the small table. The candles had enchantments placed on them so they wouldn't go out, and all of the work was on full display for anyone to see. However, the flicker of candlelight wasn't what woke Hermione.

No.

That was the rustle of papers.

She slowly pried her eyes open and blinked a few times before she caught sight of a blurry figure dressed in all black. Her eyes raked up him slowly, and her heart stopped when she saw the mop of white where the black ended.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, hoping that perhaps she was just seeing things. When she opened her eyes again, she could see Draco Malfoy, who stood frowning at a piece of parchment that Hermione had left out.

"What are you doing?! " she snapped as she threw herself out of the chair she had woken up in. "I could ask you the same question," he hissed, his eyes still scanning the parchment. “That's mine!" She yelled and made an attempt to grab the parchment, but Draco just moved it further out of her reach. "I think you will find that my mother and I paid for these, so it is mine," he stated matter-of-factly.

Draco continued to scroll his eyes over the paper as Hermione simply stood holding her breath in anticipation of the eruption that was about to occur.

Once Draco had read everything on the parchment, his eyes moved to hers. His bold stare made her nervous and weak in the knees, but Hermione still stood, deciding she would not let him scare her away.

"Who's been helping you?" He asked her, "No one-"
"Don't lie to me!" His voice roared, "Most of this handwriting doesn't match!"

His eyes were turning red in anger, and the piece of parchment in this hand had been scrunched into a ball.

"No one has been helping me!"

She lied.

"I just have bipolar handwriting!"

She lied again.

"That's bull shit, Granger, and you know it! Hermione Granger, so-called 'Brightest Witch Of Our Age', and she can't even keep her handwriting the same?!"
"Brightest Witch Of Our Age means I'm smart, not OCD!" She yelled.

And lied.

Again.

Despite appearances, Hermione quite liked her work to be neat and organised; she often prided herself on it.

"Brightest Witch Of Our Age, and you can't even listen to a simple instruction. Aren't you Gryffindor's supposed to be goody-goodies?" He scoffed. "Oh please," Hermione laughed. "I probably broke more rules than you did when we were at school."
"Bullshit! You don't know me!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot how bad you were. Hooking up with random girls in broom closets, how terrible . What a rebel," she mocked. "Oh yeah, because sneaking into the restricted section to do the best on your Defence Against The Dark Arts homework is so much worse than having a social life!" He yelled back.

Hermione simply burst into a laughing fit, causing her to fall back into her chair. "I don't see what's so funny, Granger," Draco seethed as he took a step forward, bringing him closer to Hermione. Her eyes were filled with tears of laughter, so many that she didn't notice how close he was to her. “You, thinking you know anything about me, you don't know half the things Harry, Ron, and I did in Hogwarts."

Hermione was in a loud laughing fit, struggling to catch her breath before she mentioned their names, but then it hit her that her friends were dead. Gone. Never coming back. There would be no more rule-breaking for them.

And her face simply dropped.

"Ah yes, The Golden Trio. You were given that name for a reason, you know, because you got away with every-fucking-thing. If anyone else did some of the shit you did, they would have been booted out of Hogwarts faster than you could say, 'Sorry Professor Dumbledore.'"

Albus Dumbledore.

Also dead.

Because of him.

And yet he said it like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Now tell me who the fuck has been helping you," he seethed. Suddenly, Hermione realised how close he was to her. If she stood up, their chests would touch, and she would feel his breath on her skin.

"Why don't you tell me why you don't want me to help you?" she responded calmly. Draco drew a sharp breath and ran his hand through his hair. I don't have to explain anything to you," he stated bluntly. Then I don't have to listen to you!" she yelled back in response.

Hermione stood from the chair, forcing Draco to take a step back. She felt powerful and knew she had the upper hand even though she was wandless.

"Like hell you don't!" He yelled, "Tell me, Malfoy! Why can't I help?! I know more than you do! I know where to look! I can help! We can get out of here!"
"No-"
"For Merlin's sake, Draco, just tell me!"
"Because what if you get–"

But then he stopped.

His eyes bulged like he had nearly said something he shouldn't have.

He took another step back and let out a frustrated sigh. "Because you might fuck this all up!" He snarled.

"Fuck this all up?! I have been–" but before she could finish her sentence, Draco pulled his wand out, pointed it at the table and spoke the incantation "incendio." 

The newspapers and pieces of parchment burst into flames and were seconds away from hitting the books before Draco muttered "aguamenti," and the fire was gone. Nothing was left of the papers or notes, just ash and a burn mark on the table.

Luckily for Hermione, she remembered enough not to need her notes, but they certainly would have helped, and watching him do it stung, too.

No one had ever ruined her work - not beyond repair anyway - but she had no chance without her wand.

"Winky!" Draco shouted suddenly, and the tiny elf appeared in the room with a familiar 'pop'. "Master called?" she squeaked. "Take all the books from the table and this back shelf and put them in my room," he instructed. “Yes, Master Draco, I will do that right now," she squeaked.

When Winky called Draco 'Master,' a look of shame appeared on his face, but he said nothing. The elf clicked her fingers, and all the books disappeared. " Is that all, Master Draco?" Winky asked. "Yes, now go," Draco snapped.

A moment later, Winky was gone, and Hermione was again left alone with Draco.

"If you had just done as you were told, it wouldn't have had to come to this," he said bluntly before turning and walking away. Hermione simply stood and stared at the table as she heard Draco's shoes hitting the floor and the door to the library slamming shut behind him.

Chapter Text

*21st May 1998*

The following day, Hermione tried to go to the library to see if Draco had put any of the books back, but the second she grabbed the metal door handle, it gleamed a fiery red and scolded her hand. She knew immediately why.

Draco had placed a charm on the door to stop her from entering the library.

Hermione skipped breakfast, she skipped lunch, and she missed dinner.

Instead, Hermione had decided to occupy herself by fixing things around the mansion. She first went out to the garden to fix the generator in the shed out back, which she had noticed when Winky had first shown her and Ginny around.

Surprisingly, it had only taken her an hour to fix, and it seemed to scare those in the safe house who weren’t accustomed to muggle technology when all of the lights inside the mansion turned on, the microwave in the kitchen started, and the television came to life.

Hermione then spent the following hour explaining the muggle technology to those who needed clarification on its purpose and operation.

Once Hermione had explained to everyone how to use all of this new technology, Hermione then fixed the sink in the downstairs bathroom, the bed in Ernie MacMillan’s room and the oven in the kitchen –not that it was needed with the house elves doing all of the cooking.

She didn’t care about any of these things. She just needed to not think about how she should be helping take down Voldemort.

Ginny had twice brought Hermione a plate of food but said she had no appetite. Blaise and Theodore had even tried, but Hermione simply said she didn't feel well.

However, Blaise and Theodore also discussed what had happened when Draco acted odd. They decided to go to the library, where they saw the burn marks on the table. However, all the books were back on the shelves, so the two boys grabbed all the ones they had been reading and went to Narcissa for the morning paper before going to Hermione's room.

Theodore reached to open the door, but Blaise quickly grabbed his arm with his free hand, which wasn't carrying a stack of books, and stopped him. "The fuck?"

"I get that you're still pissed about Pansy, and I get you can't be arsed with any more of Draco's shit, but you need to be nice to her. She's trying to help us all, and I bet you fifty galleons that Draco will thank us for this later," Blaise said. His tone was serious and not mood-lightening whatsoever. Theodore took a step back from the door and scowled at his friend. "I wasn't planning on being a dick, but I've never been a fan of Gryffindor's and you know that.”

“For Merlin’s sake Theo. Don’t you get it? We’re not at Hogwarts anymore! Those fucking houses don’t mean shit. We’re all on the same side here so just drop your petty grievances, and for once, just try not to antagonise anyone.” Blaise snapped.

Theodore sighed. But he knew deep down that Blaise was right. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying out loud, though.

“I hope you're right about Granger because it seems to me that she's a lot more trouble than she's worth," Theodore hissed. Blaise opened his mouth to respond, but Theodore cut him off. "Ah- if I were you, I'd focus on your behaviour."                                                                        

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Blaise questioned, “We have a job to do, and your constant flirting with Weasley is getting in the way. If you really wanted to help, you would try to gain a little more focus, don't you think?”

Before Blaise could respond, Theodore pushed Hermione's door open without knocking, revealing Hermione curled in a ball under her bed sheet facing the wall. Her hair was a bird nest behind her, and a plate filled with food was on the floor beside her bed.

Hermione was in her bedroom after a long day of fixing things around the mansion. She was exhausted, angry, sad, useless, and restless all at once.

"Granger, are you alright?" Blaise asked cautiously. "I'm fine, go away," she mumbled. Both boys rolled their eyes and went further into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. Blaise cast a silencing charm under his breath to avoid eavesdroppers and then sat on the edge of Hermione's bed whilst Theodore leaned against the wall at the other end of the room. "We saw the burn marks on the table in the library. You want to tell us what happened?" Blaise began, but Hermione stayed unmoving, with her eyes fixed on the wall.

"Well, I suppose we could always ask Draco..." Blaise sighed, but the second the mattress shifted from his weight, Hermione bolted up and yelled that he should not. "Well then, Granger, I suppose you better start explaining," Theodore said with a smirk.

With a sigh and a shuffle, Hermione braced herself. Her hair was inflated behind her head, and the jumper she had borrowed from Ginny slid off her shoulder. Not even when she was on the run with Harry and Ron had she ever let anyone see her this way.

"After you all left, I fell asleep. When I woke up, Malfoy was standing there flicking through our notes," at this comment, Hermione noticed Theodore shift anxiously. He was holding back from speaking, "he got mad at me for doing research and burnt all of our notes," she said weakly, "does he know that we were helping you?" Theodore finally asked, a hint of worry behind his agitated tone, "No, he noticed that the handwriting was different, but I told him that I have bipolar handwriting," she half laughed, "and he believed that?!" Theodore exclaimed, "Well, no, but he doesn't know that you two and Ginny were helping me. That's what you're worried about, right?" She asked cocking a brow with a hint of accusation in her words, but Theodore didn't reply. He simply breathed heavily and shifted onto his other leg.   

"When has someone telling you that you can't do something ever stopped you, Granger?" Blaise said, "How many rules did you break at Hogwarts? How often did you prove us wrong when people said muggle-borns could never be as powerful as a pureblood? You are Hermione fucking Granger, The Brightest Witch Of Our Age. After everything you have done for us- for the whole Wizarding World, are you seriously going to let that blonde pillock stop you from kicking You-Know-Who's sorry arse?" 

Once Blaise had finished his inspiring speech, the room lay quiet for a while. Hermione sat momentarily and pondered her response before taking a deep breath. "He's locked me out of the library," was all she replied.

"Granger, I know you didn't know us very well back at school, but how many times did you ever see me and Blaise walking around those corridors with stacks of books and newspapers?" Theodore laughed, something he didn't do much - or at all, really - in Hermione's presence, "We will bring you everything you need. Now we won't be much help, but I can personally guarantee that you working with whatever crap we bring you will be ten times better than whatever Draco is wasting his time on," he told her, "that's not what you were saying earlier," Blaise hummed.

Theodore pushed himself off the wall and put everything he was carrying -aside from the newspaper - on top of Hermione's draws before walking over to Blaise and hitting him on the back of his head with it.

—

When Ginny was finally told about everything that had happened between Hermione and Draco, she was furious. She had even threatened to hex him into oblivion endlessly, but Blaise was quick to calm her down, insisting that it would only waste time and that You-Know-Who would find it a tad bit suspicious when Draco showed up to the next Death Eater meeting with limbs missing.

Yet another week went by with the four studying and taking notes.

Each day, the following newspaper would be brought, always crumpled and usually with something spilt on it since the elves had to search for one each day - usually in rubbish bins -  because now, to buy something as simple as a morning coffee, a witch or wizard had to have ID. This was one of Voldemort's new ways of trying to find the Undesirables. Unless Draco or Adrian bought it, all of the food in the house was stolen by Winky and Kreacher.

Each day, there had been at least one public execution, but none of them involved anyone who had fought in The Battle. There was still no mention of those who had been 'arrested'. However, it did mention who was assigned to search for Undesirables, and among the long list of Death Eaters were Draco Malfoy and Adrian Pucey.

Over the last week, Ginny had seen a little of Draco and Adrian, but she spent more time rushing down food and then taking some up for Hermione than she did, paying any attention to the two. Since the article about the two being "top searchers," they have almost always been in their Death Eater robes and seldom in the house. Hermione, however, had hardly been eating. She had been obsessing over doing research. Ginny even had to persuade her to take a break and shower.

Hermione's bedroom was more challenging to work in than the library. There was no seating area or anywhere to rest on for taking notes, so Hermione and Ginny had been sitting on Hermione's single bed whilst Blaise and Theodore sat on the hardwood floor using the wall to keep themselves upright. Each of them would have a book on their lap, which they would rest on if they needed to take notes. Theodore complained the most out of the four, mainly about his back pains and feeling like he was back in school.

Whilst neither Theodore nor Blaise had said anything, Ginny noticed that Hermione wasn't putting any weight back on and was becoming paler.

So Ginny decided to visit Narcissa.

Narcissa could usually be found in her bedroom. She would appear if a problem had occurred and for meals, but she would not be seen for the rest of the day. Draco was often seen entering and leaving her room, but other than Hermione, he had been the only person to go in.

*28th May 1998*

Ginny walked boldly to the door and knocked three times. Narcissa's voice told her to come in less than a second later. Ginny opened the door quickly and found Narcissa in an armchair facing the window.

"You're back early. Is everything alright?" she began until she turned and saw that her guest was Ginny. “Miss Weasley, I apologise. I thought you were my son. Is everything alright? The elves should be around here somewhere if you need something," she said softly.  “Actually, no, I'm here to speak to you about your son and Hermione," Ginny stated, her tone becoming a tad more aggressive than it should have.

"Oh," Narcissa said, tilting her head slightly in confusion, "Malfoy has locked Hermione out of the library! He has been downright horrible to her, and he's saying he just doesn't want her help because she might mess things up, but if you ask me, he probably still has a problem with her blood status, which is ridiculous considering what this safe house is here for-"

"I can assure you, Miss Weasley, my son is past his old prejudices, but I agree. He has no right to stop her from helping. In fact, I also asked her to help out. I should've known that he would act this way," Narcissa stated, "but you don't understand. She's hardly eating, and she never leaves her room. At least when she could go to the library, she had an excuse to shower!" Ginny cried.

—

Draco had arrived back early as Voldemort was holding another execution of muggles that he had captured. He had been assigned to work with his father and Bellatrix to search a village in Leeds for 'traitors'. He hated the task when he was grouped because he couldn't just let people go as he wanted. Death Eaters were only grouped when they were searching a new area to capture more 'Traitors', which meant that Draco had to go against his mother's wishes, and if he captured someone, he would be forced to take them back to the palace.

Voldemort had been torturing those captured to find information on those who went missing after the battle, and Hermione Granger had been on his list since day one.

Whilst no murmur of The Safe House was uttered to Draco's knowledge, those who Draco hadn't gotten to first had let slip about having seen Arthur Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a younger red-haired boy who people were assuming was George Weasley. He made sure to obliviate anyone that Draco had caught when separated from whatever group he was searching with before taking them back to the palace. The way he saw it, they were going to die either way, and it was better to keep everyone else safe than risk them being caught because of someone who was trying to save their own skin.

Lucius had spent the entire mission complaining about how he should not be tasked with such a low-class job, but since Narcissa's betrayal, Voldemort had not been as trusting of the family. Bellatrix, on the other hand, did not complain, and she had spent every day since Narcissa 'went missing' sucking up to Voldemort and trying to regain his trust.

—

As soon as Draco arrived at the house, he would always go straight to see his mother. On this Day, Adrian was out on a mission, the same as Draco's. However, he was just re-checking a local village, so he was allowed to go alone.          

Draco made his way straight to his mother's room and was fortunate enough not to run into any of the other house members. He knew none of them trusted him, and the way they all looked at him made his stomach twist. Despite growing up not caring about other people's opinions, he found it more unsettling when he was forced to live with them. He had even noticed that Blaise and Theodore had become more distant.

He approached his mother's door and was half a second away from walking straight in until he heard a voice that did not belong to Narcissa.

"Malfoy has locked Hermione out of the library! He has been downright horrible to her, and he's saying he just doesn't want her help because she might mess things up, but if you ask me, he probably still has a problem with her blood status." Draco felt his blood begin to boil. The accusation that he was still faithful to his old prejudices was outrageous.

"If she only knew what I had done to help Muggle-borns and halfbloods already!" He had thought to himself despite his thoughts being a little over dramatic. In all honesty, the most he had been able to do was help the odd few people escape during searches.

"I can assure you, Miss Weasley, my son's past his old prejudices, but I agree; he has no right to stop her from helping," his mother's voice said softly.

"How dare she!" he thought. “She is completely aware that I'm trying to protect her!"

"I also asked her to help out."

The realisation that his own mother had gone against his wishes and set the idea in Hermione's head that she had to research hit him like a Hypogriff—which he knew from experience—and he began to question whether or not he could trust anyone anymore.

"But you don't understand; she hardly eats and never leaves her room. At least when she could go to the library, she had an excuse to shower!" Ginny Weasley's voice cried.

Draco's body went stiff, and his heart stopped beating momentarily at the sickening thought of what he was doing to Hermione.

Draco had never been one to care for others. He never needed to. Being a Malfoy, everyone simply bowed down to him and put him on a pedestal. But then he met a loud-mouthed, know-it-all, bushy-haired Gryffindor who argued with him, stood up to him, and bested him at everything.

He hated her. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He couldn’t stop hating her.

When she punched him in their third year, he only hated her more. He never shut up about how much he hated her.

When Viktor Krum took her to the Yule Ball in the fourth year, he hated Viktor. He didn’t shut up about that either.

When Ron made her cry after the Yule Ball, Draco hexed him every day for two weeks. He had claimed he didn’t have a reason, but he hated him too. The only one who was allowed to make her cry was Draco.

It wasn’t until he saw her crying on his drawing room floor last year when his aunt tortured her that he realised he never wanted to see her cry again. 

He inhaled a deep breath before turning and marching down the hallway, not daring to listen to the rest of the conversation.

—

Hermione was the only one in her bedroom. She was clutching a book in her hand that she had read several times already. The book was one on Goblin-made weapons. It told her everything she already knew, but she was trying to figure out a place where the elves could get some.

Frustrated, tired, dehydrated and hungry.

She was slowly driving herself insane.

Her room was covered in pieces of parchment and newspapers with Death all over them, and the odd spot of ink spilt on her bed sheets and the hardwood floor.

It was depressing.

There was a knock on her door, and she jolted up in shock. Assuming it was Blaise or Theodore—who had both learned to knock before entering—she called for the person to come in. However, it was a complete shock to her when Draco Malfoy entered her room.

"What do you want?" She snapped. Draco took a deep breath and stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. "I've come to… I've come to ask for your help," he stated. 

Hermione laughed loudly and placed the book she had been reading to the side. "And where has this come from? Only one week ago, you burnt all of my research and locked me out of the library!" She retorted, "Well, clearly that didn't stop you, did it?" Draco snapped as he looked around the room and noted all the scattered books, newspapers and pieces of parchment. "I knew someone was helping you. I presume it was Weaslette, although I didn't think that Weasley's had enough brain cells to do this amount of work," he laughed, "ah yes, snide remarks are sure to make me want to help you," Hermione spat.

Draco could see that his usual self was not the best way to approach this situation and was only making Hermione angry. He inhaled deeply through his nose and brushed his hand through his hair. "Granger, I need your help," he sighed. “Well, I could have told you that; in fact, I did tell you that."

"You-Know-Who is growing stronger by the day. My position in his ranks is low, but from what I know, his number of followers is growing by the second. I have been researching every possible reason as to why he cannot die, and I've got nothing," he half lied, "two weeks ago, a prisoner stabbed him right in the chest, and he survived! I'm guessing that he must be taking something to help him heal quickly and possibly make him immortal, but other than the Philosophers Stone, there is nothing that could have such powers, but we were all told that the stone was destroyed seven years ago-"

Suddenly, Hermione began to laugh hysterically. It was a cackle, almost similar to the one Bellatrix possessed. "What's so funny?" he asked her. “I know how he's alive! I know how to kill him! There is no issue there. It is getting the things we need and getting to him and his bloody snake that is the problem," she explained, almost out of breath. “What has any of this got to do with Nagini?" he questioned.

"Voldemort split his soul into seven pieces and put it inside seven objects, one of which he did by accident. Those objects were then called Horcruxes. It is an object where one hides their soul and essentially makes them immortal. They can only be destroyed using Basilisk Venom, Fiendfyre and- well, apparently, the Killing Curse. That’s what was used on Harry…” Hermione explained, her face dropping as she spoke of Harry.

“Over the last year, Harry, Ron, and I have set out to find and destroy all of them. We managed to destroy six. Nagini is the last one," Hermione told Draco.

Draco stood still. A baffled look stained his face. His jaw hung slightly, and his eyelids seemed to be glued open. Hermione pulled herself from her bed, but her legs immediately began to shake and fell from beneath her due to her lack of food and drink. Draco jolted forward and caught her just before she hit the floor. One hand grasped her arm and the other her waist. Once he had pulled her up and steadied her, he realised how pale she was.

Draco's grip on Hermione was tight; their chests brushed against one another, and Hermione could feel his warm breath on her skin. It made her breath catch in her throat.

Her skin was white as paper, and he could almost see the bone structure of her face so clearly that her skin needn't be there. It was then that he realised what Ginny had been talking about to his mother, it was clear that she had been missing meals and he also knew that stress made people lose weight quickly as well, the fact that he had kept her away from what she was good at and what she felt that she needed to do, probably wasn't good for her mental health.

He should've known that keeping Hermione Granger away from books wouldn't be good for her.

His stomach turned horrifically at the thought that he had done this to her. But he shook those thoughts away and fought to keep his usual composure.

Suddenly, Hermione cleared her throat, dragging Draco out of his thoughts and back to reality. "If it's my help you want, then fine, but we won't get anywhere if we argue all the time, Malfoy. I want to get out of here just as much as you do, and I have a feeling that together, we have a fighting chance of winning this war and killing Voldemort," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I bet you didn't ever think you'd hear me say this, Granger, but you're right," Draco said, the corner of his lip lifting, almost revealing a smile. ” I'll send Winky with something for you to eat and drink. Get ready and meet me in the library," he instructed.

Before giving Hermione the chance to respond, he helped her back onto her bed, turned around and left her room.     

Chapter Text

*4th June 1998*

Over the next week, Hermione noticed that more and more people in the safe house were leaving their rooms and becoming more comfortable around each other.

She had also realised that fixing the generator was an excellent idea on her part. Every time she went to the living room, she would notice the number of people gathered around the television. Horace Slughorn was particularly fascinated by the muggle piece of technology and sat in front of the telly almost every time she ventured downstairs.

It surprised Hermione when she entered the living room late one evening to see the TV still on and Ginny and Blaise hard and fast asleep, cuddled together on the sofa. She didn’t wake them. She was pretty happy to see her friend warming up to someone else in the house and finally moving on from the loss of Harry.

Even if Hermione hadn’t entirely managed to do the same herself…

She dreamt of Harry and Ron every night. She could never touch them in her dreams; they were almost see-through. But they were there, speaking. But she couldn’t hear them. It was like they were trying to tell her something, but she wasn’t quite sure what.

In every dream, they stood in the forbidden forest but were not close enough to touch. Hermione would try to run to them, but with every step she took, they only seemed to get further away. 

She wanted to hug them, tell them how much she missed them, tell them how much she loved them, and promise to keep fighting for them, but she never could.

After every dream, Hermione’s eyes would shoot open, and she would do nothing but stare up at the ceiling and listen to the silence around her.

Everyone else in the safe house was moving on from The Battle Of Hogwarts and focusing on the future instead. Perhaps they were all holding onto hope. Maybe they were all trying to forget. Possibly, they were all simply in denial.

But with Hermione being the last of ‘ The Golden Trio ’, she could feel the weight of this never-ending war on her shoulders. She knew everyone in the safe house looked at her like a beacon of hope. But with her stuck in this mansion, with no wand, little to no supplies and no such luck in finding a way into that damned palace, Hermione found herself completely lost for what more she could do.

But that wasn’t enough to stop her from trying.

—

Over the last week, Hermione and Draco have worked together every day. While Draco and Adrian go to do their duties for Voldemort, Blaise, Theodore, and Ginny continue to help Hermione in her research. When Draco returned from what Theodore called ‘ his underpaid acting job ’, he would immediately head to the library to continue their research and inform Hermione of any intel he had gathered.

When Draco arrives at the library, Blaise, Theodore, and Ginny leave. Draco and Hermione were the only two who never got a break in this house.

Hermione and Draco made a plan. He was to work his way higher up in Voldemort's ranks, figure out Voldemort's routine, map out the palace, and figure out a way to separate Voldemort and Nagini. Hermione's job was to devise a safe way of killing Nagini without anyone else dying. Of course, this was Hermione's idea. After what she had witnessed with Neville, she wanted to avoid anything like that.

She refused to lose anyone else.

Of course, this would take time, and Draco would have to step significantly out of his comfort zone, which Hermione wasn't confident he would be capable of, but this was their only plan that wouldn't put too much at stake.

An added extra to the plan was that Draco was to figure out what had happened to the remaining members of the Order. It had been a month since the battle, and none of those who had sided with him had been seen, and none of the captured had been publicly executed either.

Despite Hermione's doubts, she was confident in Draco's ability to occlude. She had caught him doing it several times in the last week, and he was getting better at hiding it, but Hermione couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about how much he had been doing so.

Only one candle was lit in their corner of the library that evening. The electricity from the generator didn’t seem to extend to the attic as Hermione had hoped. 

It cast a dark shadow over Draco's face, but when the candlelight flickered just right, Hermione could tell that he was trying to occlude. Another uneasy feeling made her stomach twist.

She couldn't help but wonder why he was occluding so much.

Surely it can’t be healthy to shield your emotions this often?

Hermione placed the book she had been attempting to read under the minimal light onto the table and then shifted slightly to face Draco. He was sat on the chair beside hers with a book open in one hand, a quill in the other and a piece of parchment on his lap that he had been taking notes on since he had gotten home.

"Uh- Malfoy-" Hermione began but was abruptly interrupted by Draco's harsh groan. He gripped his forearm so hard Hermione was afraid he would cut off circulation. "Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione gasped as she shot up from her seat and rushed over to him, "it's The Dark Lord, he's calling me," he hissed. Draco pushed himself up from his seat - still clutching his arm tightly - almost knocking Hermione over. "I have to go. Stay here," he said as he ran out of the library.

‘Stay here’. 

“Well, it’s not like I can go anywhere else,” Hermione muttered bluntly, but not loud enough for Draco to hear.

Whilst Winky and Kreacher were doing their best to bring Hermione back the books and supplies she needed on their weekly trips to the Black Market, they hadn’t returned with more than half of the things she needed.

She knew she was asking a lot of the house elves, but if she was to take down Voldemort successfully, she needed these books, weapons, and potions—all of it.

Winky and Kreacher insisted that these things weren’t on the Black Market, but Hermione wanted to see for herself. She pleaded with Narcissa to allow her to go with Winky and Kreacher on their next trip, but Narcissa was adamant that it was too dangerous for her to go without her wand. 

Hermione was furious. Well, restless. This mansion was beginning to feel less like a safe house and more like a prison.

Once the door slammed shut behind Draco, Hermione sat and stared blankly. This was the first time Hermione had seen anyone's mark burn or the first time she had really acknowledged what Draco and Adrian had to do for the sake of everyone in the safe house.

After a few minutes of analysing their situation, Hermione shook her head and decided to continue trying to figure out the best way to kill Nagini. She picked up her book and sat closer to the lit candle to see the words more precisely, and she began rereading the book she had already read three times beforehand.

—

An hour after Draco had left, Hermione was still sitting alone in the library—no one tended to come up to the library anymore since Hermione got the television working in the living room. Evidently, the telly was more entertaining than books. So when Hermione heard a knock on the door, she jumped slightly. 

"Come in!" Hermione called. The door opened, and Cormac Mclaggen walked in. His face had fully healed after his ordeal with Draco; however, since it had been announced that he was well enough to leave his room, Hermione had tried her hardest to avoid him at all costs.

"I should've known that I would find you in here," he laughed, "what do you want?" She hissed. Cormac took a steady step forward but knew to stop when Hermione leapt out of her seat, "listen, Granger," he sputtered with his arms in the air as if to surrender, "I wanted to apologise. What I said was out of order, and I had no right. I was just angry about the situation, and I couldn't tell how you were being so civil-headed; I took it out on you, but you should know I didn't mean any of it!" He spoke.

Despite his words sounding sincere, Hermione couldn't be sure what his intentions were.

Since arriving at The Safe House, Hermione had made herself a strict rule not to trust anyone she didn't fully trust before arriving there. This included Narcissa, Blaise, Theodore, Winky, Kreacher and Draco. Although none of them had given her much of a reason for her not to trust them, not one of them had given her a real reason to do otherwise.

These were dark times, and Hermione was unwilling to give things as simple and mundane as trust out so quickly.

Hermione hadn't realised how long she had taken to mull over what Cormac had just said until she noticed him take a step forward and open his mouth. "Please, Granger, let us start over," he suggested as he tilted his head slightly. "Fine," she replied bluntly, deciding to keep things civil. Cormac took another step forward—almost making Hermione want to take a step back—and stretched his arm towards her. " Friends?"

Hermione reluctantly took his hand in hers and said, "Acquaintances."

Straight to the point and simple.

Just the way she liked things.

"I will take what I can get," Cormac laughed. He pulled his hand out of hers and glanced around the library. "I can see that you're busy, so I'll leave you to—well—whatever it is you're doing."

"Thank you," Hermione replied bluntly. Something felt off about his apology. Hermione knew from school that Cormac could be difficult and argumentative and only ever apologised when there was some way he would benefit from it. 

Cormac turned around and approached the door, leaving with a simple "See you around, Granger." Then, he exited, ensuring he closed the door behind him.

Once again, Hermione was the only person in the library. She liked it that way; it was peaceful, quiet, and easy to work in, though her sudden interaction with Cormac still left her uneasy.

Hermione sat back in her chair with a soft sigh and opted to stay an extra hour before heading to bed.  

Chapter Text

*5th June 1998*

Hermione found herself in The Forbidden Forest once again. The wind was ice cold as it hit her skin. Her body felt numb and her mind fuzzy as she looked around.

Large trees and overgrown roots caged her, and the light from the full moon above did little to illuminate the path ahead. The sounds of magical creatures bled into her ears from every direction. She reached for her wand, casting Lumos to light her way, and she began walking through the darkness, stumbling over rocks and roots on her way.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered into her ear. She would recognise his voice anywhere.

She whirled around, and there he was, standing beside Ron. Like ghosts, she could see the trees and bushes through their bodies.

“Harry! Ron!” Hermione called. She would see their lips moving from the distance she was at. They were saying something. She couldn’t hear them. She began running towards them, her hair flapping in the wind behind her.

With each step she took, the forest seemed to grow larger and larger, expanding on and on, pulling Ron and Harry further away. She ran faster. She was sprinting. She thought that if she ran faster, she could reach them.

“Harry! Ron!” She called again, hoping they could hear her. “I’m coming! I’m trying! I’m–”

A loud crash from downstairs was what woke Hermione up.

She had fallen asleep - yet again - in the library. Her back ached from her uncomfortable position in the chair, and her eyelids felt heavy. 

She had the dream again. That same dream that plagued her dreams every night. The dream that she couldn’t quite piece together.

She could dwell on it later. Right now, all she needed to do was get to bed. She would be stiff in the morning, that was for sure.

She looked up at the clock Draco had brought back that week, only to notice that it was two o'clock in the morning. With a loud groan, Hermione pulled herself from the chair and began putting away the books and pieces of parchment that had been left out. Once she had finished, Hermione picked one book to take down and read until she fell asleep.

The book, 'The Royale Family,’ was large and heavy, but the elves had found it on the black market. It was primarily facts about their history and lineage, but Hermione hoped it might give her clues about a way into the palace.

Hermione made her way out of the library and back to her bedroom. The hallways were pitch black, and no flicker of light was in sight. It was now that Hermione really wished she had her wand.

At least in her dream, she had her wand…

When she wasn’t doing her research or sitting in the common areas of the house, Hermione was practising her wandless magic in her room. So far, she had only successfully lit one candle, and even that almost ended badly. But she knew that stress and trauma could take a toll on one's magic. Even with a wand, Hermione suspected she might struggle.

Almost every step she took startled her. The old floorboards in the house tended to make a loud creaking sound when stepped on, which reminded Hermione of Bellatrix.

When Hermione, Harry, and Ron were searching for Horcruxes, they were captured by a group of Snatchers after they visited Xenophilius Lovegood. He sold them out in an attempt to have Luna brought home. It was then that they were taken to Malfoy Manor.

When Bellatrix saw The Sword of Gryffindor pulled from Hermione's bag, she accused her of stealing it from her vault at Gringots. When Hermione denied the allegation, Bellatrix tortured her using the Cruciatus curse and then carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm.

The scar still burned from time to time, and when it did, Hermione would make a brave face and excuse herself so she could run it under some cold water. The pain wouldn't vanish entirely, but it would fade enough to soothe her.

Hermione would never forget the vicious laugh that escaped Bellatrix's mouth as she tortured her, and she doubted that there would ever be a day again when she wouldn't be terrified of hearing it.

Despite knowing other Witches since she was eleven, up until her first meeting Bellatrix –in The Department Of Mysteries during her fifth year at Hogwarts– she had never heard such a Muggle-stereotypical cackle.

It was like one that her mum would do when she read Hermione a book before bed or one that she had heard in films, but never had they sounded so scary.

It was a sound that would shake Salazar Slytherin to his core.

Draco had been there the day Hermione was tortured. He had been in the room. Stood and watched as Hermione wriggled around the floor, screaming in pain, tears drowning her face.

She often wondered how he felt about that day or if he even cared.

Despite her curiosities, she didn't dare ask. They had only just started getting along and working together, and she had decided that things were going too well for her to be the one to ruin it.

Hermione was almost at her bedroom door when she heard another crash downstairs.

Her heart almost stopped.

She wondered if perhaps someone was awake, but although it was a possibility, she knew it would be safer to check.

She knew checking without a wand was dangerous, but she also didn't want to wake anyone up if it was just nothing, so she tightened her grip on the book she was holding and slowly made her way downstairs.

As Hermione made her way closer to the ground floor, it became clear that someone was awake in the house, and they were in the kitchen.

As she got closer, the sounds of moving and the odd crash became louder, and Hermione's heart felt as though it was going to burst through her chest as it raced, so much so that she was beginning to sweat.

Now, the door was directly in front of her, and the unmistakable sounds of movement banged in her ears like drums.

Hermione took a deep breath to brace herself and gripped the book tighter.

"Three... Two... One," she whispered under her breath before pushing the kitchen door open and walking in boldly.

It was then that she saw Draco with his robes off, completely shirtless, covered in blood, with gashes all over his chest and back.

"Oh my God!" she gasped. Draco turned quickly, too quickly. As he did, he almost yelled in pain, and he grabbed onto the kitchen counter to steady himself.

Hermione rushed closer to him yet stayed weary of how close he was. "What happened to you?" She asked, her voice shaking slightly, "The- The- Voldemort, he crucio'ed me- a- and used Snape's spell- fuck - Snape's spell on me that Potter used o- on me la- last year," he groaned.

"What?! Why?!" Hermione exclaimed, "Because- I- I haven't- brought back any un- Undesirables."

While Draco croaked out his answer, Hermione thought quickly and cleared the small wooden table in the kitchen. It was a little smaller than him, so Draco's legs would hang over the edge, but Hermione was forced to work with what she had.

"Lay down on the table," she instructed as she searched through draws for anything that would help stop the bleeding. Hermione, you don't have to. Ju—go back to bed," he groaned, and leave you like this? I don't think so. Now lie down on the table. Winky! Kreacher!"

Hermione hadn’t meant to snap at Draco. She almost apologised before swallowing the words. Now wasn’t the time for her guilt to cloud her judgment.

Upon the first call, neither of the elves popped up, so Hermione yelled a second time while she helped Draco onto the table, but still, neither of the elves showed up. It wasn't until Hermione shouted at her loudest the third time that the elves finally appeared.

"What's it be that Miss Granger be's needing?" Winky squeaked tiredly as she rubbed her large, beady eyes roughly. On the other hand, Kreacher immediately noticed Draco and began eyeing him as he lay, hardly moving, on the table.

"Winky, do we have any Essence of Dittany in the house?" Hermione asked as calmly as she could. "No, Miss. We've not been able to find any on the market since everyone arrived at The Safe House," Winky told her.

"That won't work," Draco said. Hermione turned back around to face Draco and saw him pressed up on his elbows, staring at her. "S-S-Snape, w-when he healed me the first time, he-he used a- a spell, Vulnera Sanentur ," he told her, pronouncing the spell as clearly as he could before falling back onto his back.

"Crap!" Hermione exclaimed, "I don't have a wand! Winky, Kreacher, wake Narcissa-"

"No!" Draco yelled before Winky and Kreacher could pop out of the room. "Hermione, you'll have to- to do it," he said, though his voice was hardly there anymore. "Malfoy, I don't even have a wand!"

"Use mine, it- it's in my robes, on that chair," he told her weakly. He tried pointing toward the chair he was referring to–though his accuracy was way off. He was losing too much blood.

Hermione didn't even stop to question his request. She rushed over to his robes and instantly began to rummage through them. Her hands practically clobbered his robes until she felt the long wooden stick hidden away inside. Then, it was only a matter of staying calm while she tried to find the pocket. That, however, was easier said than done.

Hermione's hands felt clammy, and the room was closing on her. The thought of someone's life being in her hands and her not even having her own wand to save them was vomit-inducing, even if the person was Draco Malfoy. Nevertheless, Hermione swallowed the bile at the back of her throat, took a deep breath and pulled Draco's wand out of his pocket within seconds.

This wand was not the wand he had gone through Hogwarts with; Harry had taken that before escaping Malfoy Manor. It was clear to Hermione that this was a new wand. Unlike his last wand, this one was clearly made from apple wood. It was thin and pointy at the top and slightly thicker towards the bottom. Carved into the wood towards the centre of the wand were two lines with little dots evenly placed in between them.

Hermione rushed back over to Draco's side. A small pool of blood had formed on the floor beside her foot, which only worsened Hermione's current anxiety.

"The spell. What did you say the spell was?!" Hermione asked frantically, "Vulnera Sanentur," he answered breathlessly.

"Vulnera Sanentur?" she asked, but Draco did not answer. Hermione looked at his face, but Draco's eyes were closed, and his head was limp to the side.

"Should we'z be gettings Narcissa now, Miss?" Winky spoke, "Yes!" Hermione accidentally snapped, but before she had the chance to apologise, both of the elves had left.

When Hermione held Draco's wand in her hand, she could feel the magic coursing through her, and it felt exhilarating. It almost upset her that this would probably be the only time for the next few months that she would be able to perform Magic. She hovered his wand directly over his chest, where the first open wound was, and began chanting the spell almost rhythmically.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur," she continued to mutter.

Suddenly, Hermione noticed that underneath the blood, the gashes were starting to close. Her heart skipped a beat, and her cheeks flushed with colour when she realised the spell was working, even with another wizard's wand.

‘The wand chooses the wizard’. Perhaps the wand would also save its chosen wizard.

Hermione didn’t have time to ponder that now. Draco was still losing a lot of blood while the spell was working.

Hermione kept her movements soft and slow and repeated them up and down his front until all the wounds had closed. She then lifted his shoulder and gripped his waist, forcing him onto his front –with great difficulty– before performing the same spell work on his back. When she finally finished, all that was left were scars that matched the previous ones that Harry had gifted him.

The second Hermione placed his wand back on the table and turned him onto his back once more, the kitchen door burst open, and Narcissa ran into the room and towards the table, Winky and Kreacher following closely behind her.

"My boy! Oh, Merlin, is my boy okay?! Please be okay. Oh, Draco, please!" She cried. Her hands were wrapped around his almost lifeless face, caressing his pale cheeks.

Hermione placed two fingers under his jawline and was pleasantly relieved when she immediately found his pulse. " He's okay, Mrs—uh—Narcissa, still breathing," Hermione said softly. " Oh, thank you, my dear," Narcissa cried. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost him."

Hermione took a small step back from Narcissa as she cried over her son whilst he lay unconscious on the table. She wasn’t sure what to do now. She looked awkwardly down at her hands, noting Draco’s dried blood staining her skin.

It was only there for a second when Winky suddenly clicked her fingers, and the blood disappeared from Hermione’s skin. Kreacher did the same for Draco.

Hermione continued staring at her hands, turning them to look at either side. Although she could see that the blood was gone, she still felt as though it was there.

—

It was quarter past four in the morning. The sun could just be seen popping up from the horizon, turning the sky a dark shade of purple. The birds were singing their songs, and Draco was finally beginning to stir.

Since Hermione had healed him, she had re-checked his wounds at least five times and had the elves look him over. Despite their insistence that he would be fine, Hermione couldn't help but worry that he wouldn't be.  

She had also attempted to clean the kitchen, but the elves stopped her and did it themselves even though she had insisted countless times that she could do it. If anything, she would have preferred to do it herself rather than sit in awkward silence with Narcissa while her thoughts ran a muck.

Draco's face screwed up, and a soft groan escaped his lips. Narcissa instantly shot up from the chair she had placed beside him. On the other hand, Hermione held herself together and kept her sudden feeling of relief contained.

"Draco? Draco, it's me," Narcissa hummed softly, "Mother?" Draco groaned as he began to tear open his eyes. "Are you in pain?" Narcissa asked, "Are you hungry? Thirsty? Uncomfortable?" The mother overloaded her son with questions, each one sounding more anxious than the last. 

Hermione suddenly felt a warm feeling in her stomach as she watched Narcissa coddle and fuss over Draco; however, she almost felt jealousy simultaneously. It was unlikely that she would ever feel her mother's love again. Since Hermione arrived at The Safe House, she had tried to limit herself to how much she thought about her parents or friends and stay focused on the present. To do anything else would surely tear her apart.

Draco suddenly began pushing himself up onto his elbows. It clearly hurt to do so, but it was also clear that he was trying to hide the pain. "Winky, we need some pain potion right away," Narcissa instructed. But we're all out," the tiny elf said quickly. Then go to The Black Market and scour the entire place until you find some," she demanded. “Go now!" she yelled, taking Hermione by surprise.

They next heard two 'pops', and when Hermione looked back, both elves were gone.

"You didn't have to speak to them like that," Draco suddenly snapped. “You promised they would be treated respectfully if they joined us here!" He seethed. Hermione was taken aback as she listened to Draco defend the elves. He and his friends used to take a lot of joy in making fun of her SPEW posters when she put them around the school, and yet now, he was defending Winky and Kreacher.

"I know, you're right," Narcissa sighed, " I will apologise when they return. Draco, what happened to you?" Narcissa asked softly.

"Voldemort, he had noticed that Adrian and I hadn't brought back any Undesirables when we searched alone. He used legilimency on both of us. Fortunately, I am skilled enough in occlumency to have been able to stop him from finding anything, but Adrian, well, he wasn't. Voldemort, he-  he found out that Adrian wasn't loyal to him, and he killed him."

"What?!" Narcissa exclaimed. We need to get everyone out of here now!" She said frantically. She was ready to turn and begin waking everyone in the house up when Draco quickly grabbed her shoulder. " No, Mother, he doesn't know about the Safe House, just that Adrian was letting people go," he told her. " Oh," she replied.

"Mother, go back to bed, please, get some sleep, I'm fine," he assured her, "but-"
"Now."

Narcissa sighed harshly but kissed her son on his forehead before leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

Draco shifted on the table and began to pull himself off. It was then that Hermione shot up and attempted to help him. "No, no, it's fine. I'm fine, Granger, but thank you for helping me." 

Hermione didn't miss Draco calling her 'Granger. ' In fact, it almost hurt her that he had returned to calling her by her surname. While she was helping to heal him, Draco had called her by her first name several times, and to Hermione, it felt almost reassuring, but she felt that using her surname put a barrier between the two.

And it stung.

"I only did what anyone else would have done," she replied softly, but Draco responded with a harsh scoff. "I'm not too sure about that," he laughed sarcastically. “Most people here still think I want to hand them to The Dark Lord."

A moment of silence fell on the two. Hermione didn't know how to respond. He was probably right, but nevertheless, she never would have let him die.

Draco grabbed his wand off the table, walked over to the chair where his robes and shirt had been tossed, and retrieved his things. " You should go to sleep as well," he breathed.

Hermione didn't protest the way Narcissa had tried to. She was exhausted, and even while she was waiting for Draco to wake up, she had almost dozed off in the chair beside him.

"Goodnight D- Malfoy," she muttered before heading towards the kitchen door.

Before she left the room, she glanced back at Draco, who was watching her. They made eye contact for a brief second before Draco abruptly broke it. "Goodnight, Granger," he said bluntly.

Hermione took a deep breath, left the kitchen, and returned to her bedroom. She didn't change her clothes before climbing into bed and falling into a deep sleep.