Penance

Hermione rose from her downward dog position and rolled her shoulders. Her nightly routine consisted of a personal blend of Pilates and yoga to keep her strength and settle her mind. She was in the best shape of her life and she didn’t plan on letting it go. She looked over at Draco when he opened the bathroom door. Steam poured out and she nearly yelled at him for wasting so much hot water but she caught herself. She didn’t want to start another fight. She tried to keep her mind from what he had told her, tried not to think about the possibility that Harry might be alive. She’d had to fight to keep herself from the pits of despair after he and Ron and so many others had left her, left her alone. That wasn’t her life anymore. She had her life; it was here, in America where she was now a full-fledged citizen thanks to some re-worked documents. The Wizarding World seemed a million miles away, another life. She was Janie Palmer, soon to be Dr. Jane Palmer.

“I don’t know how you can stand living like a muggle, Granger. It’s so damn difficult,” Malfoy complained as he marched into her kitchen and began making himself a cup of tea. The muggle way.

“You haven’t used magic once since you got here,” she mused. “Why?”

His hands stilled for a moment before going back to his business. “I’m being followed. I don’t want to alert them.”

Gripping the counter she watched him. “Who? Who would be following you?”

He shook his head. “You don’t know anything,” he growled. “You and your precious little world, hiding away from real life. Did you really think it was all over? Did you think that killing the Dark Lord would be the end of it?” Her tea kettle crashed to the counter as he threw it down and rounded on her. “Dark shit is going on, Granger. You left everyone else to pick up the pieces. You have no clue, none about the After War.”

Hermione shook her head in denial. He was lying to her, of course he was, he was Malfoy for goodness sake! “No, no it was over. I would never have…it’s over, Malfoy. You’re just trying to scare me.”

She jumped when his hands slapped roughly on the counter on either side of her, blocking her in. He hovered over her, his face a mask of rage. “I don’t have to try, mudblood. All I would have to do is pick your pretty little bum up and drop you off at the Range. Then you might feel fear. Getting rid of the Dark Lord was only the first step. While you’ve been whittling your life away playing house the rest of us have been fighting to keep our world from falling apart. Are you scared yet?”

She didn’t move, didn’t give in to his aggression. She was terrified he might be telling her the truth. He shoved away from her, a look of revulsion on his face.

“Look, you said this was about Harry. If you know something, tell me. Otherwise, I’m not interested. I’ve chosen my life; I don’t care about whether or not you approve. The only reason I haven’t called the cops and had you arrested for trespassing is because I need to know what you think happened to Harry.” She was shaking, she couldn’t help it. He’d died right in front of her, she’d seen it, watched him fall while she’d been helpless to stop it.

He looked at her as if he had never seen something as disgusting as she. Hermione didn’t care, she loathed him. She couldn’t wait until he was out her front door and she could go back to forgetting he ever existed.

“You would turn your back again, even now that you know about the war that is still going on? You would stay here, in this little Podunk town and pretend none of it ever happened?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

For a second she felt the guilt overwhelm her from the look of utter abhorrence on his face. Then she remembered who he was, what he had done, and she didn’t care. If they all thought she was dead, then that was just perfect. Even if they knew she was alive it didn’t matter. She would never see any of them again, she would be a memory, a scorned one but so be it. She would serve her dues here, alone. She didn’t need anyone.

For a moment the look in his eyes was one of pity, draped with aversion. “What happened to the Hermione Granger I used to know?”

Hermione hardened. “She died.”

“Then you’re of no use to me. Good luck with your so-called life.” Malfoy turned on his heel and headed out the door. When it slammed shut behind him Hermione felt a small sense of relief. That had been easier than she’d thought. Then the grief hit her. For one brief second she had thought that maybe, possibly, Harry had survived. What if Malfoy knew something she didn’t? Was it so hard to believe after everything he had done at that last battle? Could Harry really be out there, somewhere? Panic took over and she rushed out the door, bare feet stinging in the snow which must have started while she was inside. Running down the chilly steps she looked around, but he had disappeared.

“Malfoy?” she called, teeth chattering. She hugged her arms around herself as the wind tore through the dark parking lot of her apartment complex. She saw footsteps heading out towards the road and followed them, jumping from indentation to indentation hoping it would cut down on the pain of her bare feet in the snow. No such luck. She refused to think about the pain as she turned onto the street and watched a dark figure disappear around the corner.

“Malfoy! Wait!” Slipping and sliding she ran as fast as the snow and wind would allow her. She turned down the dark alleyway and hurried forward where he was about to steal around the next corner.

“Malfoy!”

He stopped and turned to her. She couldn’t see his face but she knew he would be furious so she crept forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you guys. I didn’t know…you have to help me, if you know anything about Harry-,”

When she finally got close enough she realized very quickly that this man was not Malfoy at all.

“Oh! Excuse me, I’m sorry!” she apologized with a small laugh. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh it’s no problem, none at all. What’s your name?” he asked with a smile, coming closer.

“Janie. I’m so sorry, really I’m embarrassed.”

“It’s not problem, Janie. What are you doing out so late, honey?”

Honey? I think it’s time to get out of here…

“Oh nothing, nothing. Well, I’ll see you later,” she said backing away.

“Wait, a pretty girl such as yourself shouldn’t be walking alone in the dark. I’ll walk you back,” he said, standing far too close for her comfort. She told herself not to panic as she continued to back away, hating that he was coming forward with each step she took back. When he stuck out his hand she turned and ran, angry at herself for sticking around to apologize. She should know better than that. She screamed when he grabbed her hair and yanked her back where she fell against his chest and his hand covered her mouth while his other arm wrapped around her stomach and lifted her off the ground. She kicked and fought but he was incredibly strong. She bit down on his hand until she tasted blood and he ripped his hand away.

“Help! Somebody help me, please!” He swung her around and threw her roughly against the brick wall of an old grocery store which was now an empty building. The back of her head smacked roughly on the hard surface creating little black dots which danced across her vision. He gripped her throat tightly preventing air from entering or screams from escaping. She kicked and hit her attacker until he clouted her hard across the face twice making her head reel.

“Shut up you fucking cunt! Don’t make this any harder on yourself!” She tried to cry out when she felt his hand grope her breast and she kicked out, kneeing him in the balls. The man doubled forward, releasing her and giving her time to run. She fell once, her frozen feet having trouble grabbing purchase on the icy ground. She struck out for the street knowing the more exposure she had the more likely it was someone would see her and help her. She could hear the man yelling behind her and saw in her peripheral vision as he ran after her. She screamed when she ran into something and realized it was yet another man. She struggled, terrified, punching and pulling but he held fast.

“Granger, stop, stop! It’s me!”

She snapped her head up and saw that it was Malfoy. Relief shot through her and she nearly fell to her knees but he held her up, turning her so that he was facing her pursuer and she was protected by his body.

“I suggest you turn your pitiful arse around and go back the way you came.” Draco growled.

The man laughed. “Isn’t that sweet? The little British fag wants to tangle. Well then, what are you waiting for?”

Shoving Hermione behind him she watched in horror as he dug out his wand.

“Malfoy, no!”

The man continued to laugh as Malfoy advanced on him. “You’ll fucking pay for ever thinking you were good enough to touch a woman like her. Stupefy!”

The man flew back and hit the wall, hard. Hermione let out a small scream as he slumped to the ground and she saw a trickle of blood seep through his shaggy sand colored hair. Malfoy shoved his wand back in his pocket and turned to her, grabbing her arm and dragging her back towards her apartment complex.

“What the fuck do you think you’re on about walking around in the snow in practically nothing by yourself?” he demanded as he dragged her roughly across the street.

“I was looking for you!”

“Stupid! Don’t you understand what could have happened? What if I hadn’t heard you screaming?”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much!”

“Sure as hell looked like it to me.”

“I got away, didn’t I?”

He rounded on her, angry as she’d ever seen him. “For how long, Granger? And when he caught you again and beat you to within an inch of your life because you’re too stubborn to use the only defense you have at your disposal? What then?”

“And what is that, exactly?” she shot back at him.

“Your fucking magic! You’re a goddamn witch and here you are allowing some man to paw and beat you because you want to ‘leave it all behind’. I don’t know why they ever said you were the smartest witch of our generation because so far to me you seem pretty fucking pathetic.”

His words stung and she had nothing to say back. She knew he was right, but she would never admit it. She was a coward of the lowest kind, scum. She didn’t need him to remind her. She tugged her arm away from him and marched down the slush coated street, shaking so hard that it hurt.

“Merlin, Granger! Where are your bloody shoes? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

She ignored him and began to wonder why she had ever thought he might be the answer to her heart’s desire. The one thing she wanted most was Harry and Ron, she would give anything, anything to have them back and if she had to suffer Malfoy’s company, then so be it. She would endure a thousand times worse than what she had just gone through which made her want to sink to her knees and cry. Draco was right. She could have been molested, raped, murdered. She hadn’t thought once about using her magic. She didn’t even have her wand. She hadn’t seen the damn thing in nearly two years. It was the only magical object she had actually kept, the rest she had left behind in her old room at the Burrow. She was dumb to have gone wandering around in the streets alone. It was something she’d definitely never do again. The image of that man groping her made her stop in her tracks and she had to force herself to breathe. Nothing had happened. She had a sore jaw, that was all. Miniscule. She had suffered worse, far worse. She thought of that horrible night in Malfoy Manor as Bellatrix Lestrange had cursed her over and over, the pain still easily brought to mind even after all these years. She felt a hand on her back.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said. Not scathingly, not rudely, almost nicely. She nodded vigorously and urged her feet which were now blocks of ice forward. He held open her door for her and the warmth of her tiny apartment hurt her frozen skin. He pushed her down into the armchair and yanked the comforter off her bed throwing it around her before pounding into the kitchen. She could hear the preparations of tea and was whole-heartedly thankful as she hadn’t had more than a few sips of her last mug. Her body continued to shake as she snuggled into the blanket. She was so tired, all she wanted to do was sleep and never wake up, never have to face this confusing nightmare of her life.

“Keep your eyes open, Granger. I don’t want you falling asleep,” came Malfoy’s voice from her kitchen.

“Why not?” she murmured.

“Because I need to check out your head. I noticed you were bleeding, you might have a concussion.”

A concussion? She remembered the man throwing her against the wall and her skull slamming against it. That could be the reason for her raging headache.

“Here,” his voice was much closer and Hermione peeled her lids apart to see he was offering her a steaming mug.

“Thank you,” she said softly. He grunted. “No, really. Thank you for what you did out there. I don’t think I would have gotten away without you.”

He said nothing but went around the back of the armchair where she felt his fingers prying her hair apart. When he touched a certain spot she hissed in pain and jerked away, her fingers coming up to clutch the back of her head. When she pulled them away they were wet and she looked at her fingers. Blood.

“Is it bad?” she asked.

“Not too bad, just a little gash. I can have it mended in a minute but I need you to sit still.”

She did so and felt his fingers and wand at the back of his head. He began muttering and slowly the dull pain ebbed, her headache settling to a soft throb. When be backed away she put her fingers up to her hair. Nothing. No bump, no blood, no scar.

“How did you learn to do that?” she asked.

“It’s fundamental when you’re out hunting and you can’t get to a hospital.”

“Hunting?”

Draco walked around to the cheap desk chair and pulled it forward. “Yes, hunting. That’s what we call it when we go searching for the Death Eaters.”

Hermione was perplexed. “But, I thought they were all thrown in Azkaban? They were to have received the kiss, all of them!”

“It didn’t happen. They broke out with a little help from a couple of my old ‘friends’”

She nodded slowly. “So…you’re on our side now?”

He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. His hair and clothing was still damp from the snow. “I thought I’d made that clear at the Battle.”

“I just thought…well, it doesn’t matter,” with still slightly shaky hands she took a sip of the warm tea. “Tell me what you know about Harry.”

“It’s not much. We had all seen him die, we never thought about it again. Until a couple months ago a rumor surfaced about a cell that the Death Eaters were keeping that we didn’t know about. We located it and went in. We were emptying the cells when a fight broke out, we had to get out with the people we had. I was carrying this boy, he couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen years old, when I took a wrong turn. I opened a door and there Harry was, drugged, bound and gagged, chained to a wall. I tried to get to him but there were barriers and the boy…the Death Eaters must have heard me because they came along and I had to get out of there. I’ve tried to go back several times but they put up new defenses, I can’t get past them. Everyone has tried but it was futile. That’s where we need you.”

“Why would you think I could get past them if no one else can?”

“Because you’re the smartest witch of the age. I knew you hadn’t died; it seems I was the only one who thought that way. I’ve been tracking you down for a few months, it took me sometime but I was finally able to track your wand. They can do that, you know.”

“So why didn’t you come to me straight away? Why did you wait?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re being followed by more than just me. I don’t know why they’ve held back either, maybe waiting for the right time to strike, I don’t know. I was waiting for something to happen but it never did and their presence prevented me from getting to you. Tonight I took out the one stationed at the diner and snuck into your cart.”

“Car.”

“Whatever.”

Hermione’s hand went to her roiling stomach. She was being followed. How could she not have known? How did they find her? She had covered her tracks…could they have used her wand as Malfoy had? She was silent for a long while. She had thought this was over. The war had ended, everyone would just go back to the old ways and she could disappear, forget about the last seven years of her life. If she had thought…she couldn’t have left. Not if she thought she was still needed. She wouldn’t have faked her own capture, wouldn’t have left them behind. Now she had a life, meager as it was, and she was going to use it to cleanse her soul of the evil she had done, the evil she had witnessed. She was ready to pay her dues for being a coward. Could she really just drop her life here and go back to being a witch? Go back to fighting a war she had tried so hard to forget about? There was really no question. If there was even the slightest chance that Harry was alive she would go to the ends of the world to save him. He and Ron had been her life; a large part of her had died at their passing. Saving Harry was more important than getting a PhD.

“Alright, I’m in. What’s the next step?”

“Well we have to leave here as soon as possible. I don’t want to be anywhere near where I did magic by the time the Death Eaters realize I did. So pack up some things, we’ll start out now.”

Taking a deep breath she stood, dropping the blanket. She looked up when she felt eyes on her and realized Malfoy’s gaze was transfixed on her chest. Looking down she found that the snow had made her white exercise shirt completely see-through and the cold air had hardened her nipples to little pebbles. Blushing, she covered her chest and Malfoy cleared his throat, looking away. She dug in her dresser for some warmer clothes and went to the bathroom to change, totally mortified. She couldn’t believe Malfoy had the nerve to stare at her like that! Well, he is a Malfoy, she chided herself. Slipping out of her wet clothing she gasped when her exercise top rubbed against her sore breast. She looked down and saw a handprint sized bruise beginning to form. Looking at her face she could see the bruising developing there as well, a black eye blooming. It felt swollen and sore but she could deal with it. She didn’t have time for ice or creams.

Pulling a red long sleeved shirt over her head and tugging on her jeans and socks she re-did her messy bun and walked back into her main room where Malfoy was throwing things into a bag.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. He looked up at her with a pair of her lacy panties in his hands and said very calmly;

“Helping you pack. Don’t get so hissy, it’s not as if I haven’t seen a few of these in my day,” he wiggled the light blue boy-cut shorts in front of her and she snatched it away, throwing it in the bag he had laid out.

“I don’t need anything. We should just get going, I don’t want to waste any time,” she snapped.

“Granger, I don’t plan on coming back,” he said slowly.

“Well, they will still be here when we’re done. I’ll have to write a check for my manager for next month’s rent. Oh, and I need to leave a note for Edna and my professors! Give me one minute!”

She ran to her desk and dug out paper and a pen but Malfoy grabbed her arm. “We don’t have time. Just leave it, they will survive. Grab a few things that you really need and let’s go,” he said in a low voice. That voice made her skin crawl.

“Malfoy, what are you saying?”

He removed the hand from her arm and ran it through his fine hair. “I’m saying you may not be coming back. Ever.”

“Why?” she asked slowly.

“Merlin, Granger! You don’t understand! It’s dangerous out there! Things aren’t the way they used to be. It’s harder, colder. You probably won’t be coming back because we are on a suicide mission.”

Her lungs deflated but she stood her ground. She’d understood danger before, there had been many situations she didn’t think they would make it out alive. She wasn’t afraid of death, but she wasn’t ready to die. However, if that was the price of Harry’s life, she’d give it.

“Alright, then let’s get moving. Can you grab that bag for me?” she asked. He went to do so and she hurried to the bathroom and grabbed necessities and shoved them into the bag Malfoy held out for her.

“One more thing and then we can go,” she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder and opening the top drawer of her dresser. She reached behind the drawer to the secret latch she had hidden there and flipped it. She grabbed the long box and pulled her arm out, scraping the top of it on the wood. She placed the box on her desk and held her breath when she undid the latch and opened the lid. There, resting on old pictures and emergency cash, was her wand. She touched it gently before lifting it and holding it in her right hand. It hummed with energy but she felt odd. It had been over two years since she’d held a wand. Even when she had been starving in the streets she had not used it. Not since the Battle. She looked up at Malfoy when she sensed a movement and removed the bag to slip into the coat he held out for her. His traditional robes were thick winter material but she had noticed that they no longer had that expensive look about them. She kept her opinions to herself and tucked her wand into her jacket pocket before scooping all the pictures and money into her bag.

Hermione looked around her little apartment one last time and sighed. She was leaving her life behind, the life she had built so strenuously. She had gone from a starving bum to a college student working on her PhD. She figured she’d done alright, considering. With one last gaze she strode to the door and held it open, grabbing the keys from the counter and turning off the lights. She slammed the door shut, locked it behind her and turned to Malfoy.

“So, who’s driving?”

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A/N: I know you all hate me from my last story, but I hope you are still enjoying this one :)

XOXO

RynStar15