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“Crucio!! How does it feel, you Pureblood scum?!” Limbs flailed, smacking against the cold castle floor. A bone cracked off of a corner of the wall – TWACK! The curse trailed off; the caster panting in heaves.
“You’re the filth. You don’t even deserve to lick these floors. You were pathetic as a Death Eater – Crucio – and you’re pathetic now! Beg me to stop.” The spell was released and toes of a Ravenclaw’s boot kicked into ribs. Still, the crumpled figure on the floor did not make a sound. “Get him to his knees. He will beg us for his life and we will take it. He will learn what it is like to be owned.”
Dull grey eyes lifted to assess the two Slytherins and their Ravenclaw leader. One of the Slytherins met his eyes. “Crucio.” The voice was even and cold enough to be a Scotland winter. “He said to beg, not to look at us. Even mice don’t deserve to be looked at by you. You’re a termite, Malfoy.” He writhed once again on the floor– back arching to the sky. Still, he made no sound. A glance was shared between the three. “Sing, Traitor. Sing for us.”
THUD! Malfoy found himself too disoriented to identify the approaching sound. And then the pain stopped once again. A shimmering light appeared, but his eyes were unfocused. A new voice, but he couldn’t quite discern it.
Shoes entered his line of sight. He heaved himself into a sitting position as the scene around him started to solidify.
“The war is over, you fucking morons!” She screamed.
“He deserves it!”
“That is not your place to decide. Now give me your wands and the Headmistress can settle this.” The three stares facing the shoes were deadly.
“You might be Golden, but if you defend him you’re the same kind of scum. Don’t make us treat you like him, Hermione. Mind your own business.”
Granger? The thought was cloudy, but he struggled to remain upright and the tawny girl swam into focus. She was still one third hair and much too skinny. The rigid set of her shoulders was serious and the pitch of her voice dangerous. Sharpened by war.
“Do not fuck with me.” She spat at them. “Give me your wands, and the Headmistress can settle this. I have no patience for this shit.”
“We aren’t giving you our wands, Bitch. But, we’ll make you bend to them.” The three students shared a glance, then attacked simultaneously. Still riding their power trip.
Regardless of what they were going to shoot at her, two of them crumpled instantly and the third tottered with a glazed expression. Granger hadn’t moved or spoken. Malfoy felt the blood dripping from his nose patter against the floor.
“Accio wands.” Four wands streamed towards her floating hair, charged with magic. Malfoy had dropped his during his little mini-torture session. Child's play compared to what he’d suffered before, honestly.
Granger crouched in front of him, plucked a wand from her pile, and handed it to him. “Yours?” A nod. Blood dripped down his face and coated his lips. Another Crucio-induced nosebleed. “You look terrible. What were they using on you? Oh! Your leg is broken. Expecto Patronum.” The words rushed out of her all at once as giggly and majestic otter formed from silver mist. “Please go and inform the hospital wing where we are. We’ll need transport for a student with a broken leg and three more who have broken school rules. Please notify the Headmistress.” The silver otter careened off through the stone walls, giggling in a babble.
“That’s handy.” Malfoy’s voice was gravel from disuse. He was astonished that he’d spoken. He’d used words so rarely since returning to Hogwarts that they startled him.
She flashed him a small smile. “I’m going to cast a numbing charm on this to dull the pain for you. Is there anywhere else you need to be healed?” Granger looked terrible. Her eyes were bruised, her skin mottled. She’d shrunken into herself since the altercation had passed. Her hands didn’t shake as she cast the numbing charm, but she looked somehow frail – as if only her mind was alive behind her eyes. And the rest of her wasn’t quite up to par.
He looked beyond her to his assailants. Two of them were frozen in the obvious posture of a full body bind. The other still swayed on his feet looking lost.
“I can teach you sometime, if you want.” Her smile was gentle. She shifted away from him to begin getting to her feet. Halfway there, one of the wands shot from her hand. Hermione’s eyes followed it to the still semi stunned Ravenclaw that was on his feet.
“Crucio.” The wand was pointed at Malfoy, but in a moment of heroics, Hermione stepped between the spell and it’s target.
Screams. As if someone was flaying her alive from the inside out. She felt as if her skin was peeling off layer by layer and being reattached with acid. Like it was coming apart from the inside and too large to stay in her body. Her back arched and she felt herself lifted from the floor.
It was a Ravenclaw boy, angry at losing his father in the war. It was Bellatrix. “Where did you get the sword?” “How could you defend him?” “Mudblood.” “He killed us! He killed so many.”
Time stopped. Time was an endless loop.
Something crashed into her body and it hurt, like teeth cinched around her upper arms. The spell’s connection was suddenly broken and a warmth washed over her. A soothing sensation like balm for a sunburn, but it flooded through her. The world faded to black.
--
“Draco Malfoy. Let down this shield. We want to help you and Hermione, but we can’t get through!” Knuckles rapped on the bubble of the shield. Hermione’s eyes opened. The world was a blur and her skin was on fire. Well – it should have been, but it wasn’t? Her head was turned and she could see the Ravenclaw who attacked them had been tossed into the wall and collapsed. Probably just knocked out.
“I’m sorry. I can’t let them hurt you again. I’m sorry. I can’t let them hurt you again. I’d rather die. Please just hurt me. Not her. Please not her. Not again. I’m so sorry, Granger. You don’t deserve this. Granger, be okay. I’m sorry.”
Words were washing over her. Water pattering against her cheek. Wet slid against her lips and she could taste the salt. Tears. From her limited perspective, she could only see white pulses of power emitting from what seemed to be… her? And a wall of shimmering shield. She followed the shield, curiously. Turning her head to chase the domed ceiling of it. 360 degree shield charm – extremely impressive. Highly unlikely to be able to be cast in such a shape. Usually formed from sheer desperation and still very rarely. Only remarkably powerful wizards could weave untamed magic into… She froze.
Draco Malfoy – Ex-Death Eater and recently tortured – had thrown his body across hers. He was speaking to her, one hand tangled in her hair. The white pulses of magic were not in fact coming from her, but… him. He was looking at her face, lips moving. The words tumbling over her – but he was looking through her. Like staring into a memory. As if he didn’t actually see her there.
Hermione moved just her eyes to find the Headmistress rapping against the shield charm. Malfoy didn’t seem to hear her, though. He was still crying, tears dripping onto her face. An endless mantra of apology and pleas for him to die in her place.
He’s stuck at the mansion. In that memory.
Slowly, she understood why the Headmistress was patiently waiting to gain access to the shield charm. And why the aftereffects of the Crucio spell weren’t ripping through her body. Malfoy’s magic was protecting her. He’d wrapped them in a bubble of magic and used the inside of the shield dome to contain and reflect his intentions. To soothe her wounds and protect her.
And she’d intended to save him – when the opposite was true.
“Malfoy.” Her voice was a whisper, barely formed. There was blood on her teeth and iron in her throat. Tentatively, she reached up and touched his face. Her hand slipping along his too prominent cheekbone and swiped her thumb at his tears. “Hey, Malfoy. Come back to me.”
She watched his eyes refocus. See her. Take in her being under his body. Watched his eyes dart to the hand in her hair, the tears on her face, and the hand she had resting against his cheek. “I’m alright. It’s alright.” His breathing was ragged. On the cusp of a panic attack and relapse. His pupils were blown wide, eyes desperate for an exit.
“Hey.” His eyes returned to hers. “Thank you for saving me.” She raised her other shaking hand to cup the side of his face. “You saved me. You can let go, now. We’re safe.”
“Nowhere is safe, Granger.” The words were barely there. More outline than voice. He wavered, unsteady. Magic was still pouring off of him in waves.
“The Headmistress is here. Let go.” She tugged him gently towards her. Surprisingly, he followed with ease. Resting his forehead against hers. “We’ll be safe right now. I promise. Let your magic go.” The words were almost her lips on his. Passing between them without sound.
“Granger,” His voice was getting farther. The pulses of magic slowing, beginning to crawl across the castle floor. The shield bubble wavering. Malfoy’s full weight slumped into her chest. She wrapped her arms around him as he crumpled into her. One last pulse of magic washing over them both as his head slipped onto her shoulder “I believe you.”
Hermione was crying. Their tears mixed on her skin.
“I won’t let any further harm come to him child. We can talk later. Please let us take care of you both for the moment.” And at the Headmistress’ words, Hermione joined Draco Malfoy in unconsciousness.