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Rebastan watched as the girl seemed to shrink into herself. It had taken her a while to break, but then again, everyone broke in the end. Watching as Bellatrix tortured the poor muggle-born just for the misfortune of being Harry Potter’s best friend, he felt something. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He’d been at the end of Lord Voldemort’s wand more often than he’d cared to admit since he’d decided to follow the man who had once been Tom Riddle.
It wasn’t a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination. The fact she was under Bellatrix’s wand only made it worse. His sister-in-law was deranged in a way the Dark Lord was not. The Dark Lord punished failures; that much was true, but the man wasn’t sadistic about it. He didn’t get off on having to punish his followers. Even against Muggleborns, he was much more likely to kill them quickly than draw out their pain.
Bellatrix Lestrange was on another level entirely.
So Rebastan did something he usually didn’t do. He retreated. He left the ballroom and made his way to his bedroom before soundproofing the doors. Seeing the slip of a girl, Hermione, refusing to break even under Bellatrix’s wand, had ignited something within him.
It touched his soul in a way nothing had before. Sighing, Rebastan kicked off his shoes before laying down on the bed, doing his best to clear his head. Yet no matter how hard he tried, her screams echoed through the corridors of his mind. A haunting melody if there ever was one. It didn’t help that the Potter boy had escaped capture. What kind of person willingly let themselves be captured to allow another to go free, knowing what awaited them? What kind of person risked life and limb for a boy destined to die?
Rabastan found that sleep would not be forthcoming anytime soon.
Waiting until everyone had cleared out for the night had taken hours. Getting past Wormtail was easy enough; the man hadn’t been much of a fighter when he was in Hogwarts. The cell that Hermione was being held in was warded within an inch of its life, all of which he was able to disable with a flick of his wrist. Rabastan watched as Hermione immediately backed into the far corner of the cell. Shrinking in on herself as she did so.
Trying to make herself as small of a target as possible.
Her hair was matted beyond belief. The fingers in her right hand looked sprained, if not flat-out broken, and her face hardly resembled that of the girl that had first been captured. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of him, making him hold back a sigh. He approached slowly, coming to kneel before the trembling girl on the cold stone floor. Setting his wand down far enough away that it was apparent he would have to work to reach it before she did, he pulled the small bag from his side. Methodically, he pulled out a potion before reaching for the trembling girl.
“Relax, if I wanted to hurt you I already would have.” When his words didn’t have the desired effect, Rabastan sighed. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but it will help.” Carefully, he popped the cork on the vial in his hands before he held it to her trembling lips. “If you don’t trust me, trust your eyes and nose. Severus said you were damn near a potions' prodigy.” Hermione’s eyes flashed with confusion at the mention of Severus, causing Rabastan to chuckle. “Professor Snape.” Hermione opened her mouth to refute why Rabastan thought she was confused, but the flash of pain that crossed her face at the movement stopped her. “Drink, girl. I don’t have much time, and more must be done this evening.” He watched as Hermione smelled the potion and eyed the vial before she nodded slowly, every movement drawing out her pain.
Rabastan carefully poured the potion down her throat, massaging her throat when it seemed her body refused to swallow. He repeated the process seven more times, each with a different brew before he slowly reached for his wand. With practiced movements, he healed the breaks in her fingers before healing the gash that Bellatrix had carved into her stomach. When the gash didn’t entirely disappear, Hermione frowned. Rabastan coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke.
“I can only do so much. If you’re suddenly fully healed, they’ll know someone helped you. It will leave the marks, but heal the wounds.” Hermione nodded more quickly than she previously had as she began to stretch her fingers out. Sore from disuse, he watched the discomfort cross her face as he forced her fingers to move. “Stretch out as best you can. It will help with the soreness.” Hermione nodded, swallowing hard as she tried to find her voice.
“Thank you.” Rabastan pulled a face at her words, noticing the frown that crossed Hermione’s.
“Don’t thank me yet, girl. Save that for when the cavalry comes.” Her eyes flew wide, praying she hadn’t misunderstood him, the question poised on her trembling tongue. “They’re coming. It will be days yet; maybe weeks. I’ve only just spoken to them. Just hold on for a little while longer.” The tears that leaked from her eyes drew a soft smile from him. “Hey now, none of that yet. Save it for when you’re actually out of here.” For once, there was life shining in the girl’s eyes. Something he hadn’t seen since Hermione was first brought to Malfoy Manor.
She had hope now; it was more than she previously had. Rabastan just wished he’d thought to give it to her sooner. Reaching back into his bag, he pulled out a round loaf of bread and a thermos before presenting them to the girl. Weak from food being withheld for so long and only being given the bare minimum, she could hardly lift her hands. Carefully, he tore small pieces of bread before dipping them into the thermos. Gingerly, he held the pieces to her lips and watched as she devoured them. Letting her finish the entire thermos and loaf, he pulled a second from his bag before tucking them into her bedding.
No one fully entered her cell, they only came to pull her out for sessions. She would be fine with them as long as she kept them out of sight.
“Keep them out of sight. I’ll be back later to bring you more. There’s water in the second thermos.” Hermione nodded, grateful not even close enough to describe the gratitude she was currently feeling. “Stay alive girlie. I have a feeling you're more important than even you know.”
Hermione watched him leave and it wasn’t until after he was gone that she realized she hadn’t said a single word the entire time.