The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man

Title: The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man
Author: moirasfate/ianthe_waiting
Rating: MA/NC-17
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Suspense, romance, angst
Warnings: Character Death, graphic violence, madness, non-consensual sexual acts, abuse, oral, M/F, and overall darkness. Dark!Harry included.
Summary: DH-EWE: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible.
Author's Notes: This fic is in 1st person POV, so be warned. It will eventually be a DM/HG, but there is a squicky scene that might make you think otherwise. There is some non-con in this fic, so if it squicks you, don't read it for Merlin's sake! This is an unbeta'd recent rambling, so forgive the mistakes.





The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man

Part 7



“What are you doing, Granger?” Malfoy hissed, his voice echoing off the close, damp stones of the dungeon passage.

I had my right fist raised to knock on Horace Slughorn’s office door, but paused to regard Malfoy with a sharp look, telling him to calm himself from whatever fury he had wrapped himself inside. When Malfoy’s cloudy face did not break in the muted torchlight, I sighed.

“Horace wanted to see me, he might have some information.”

Malfoy’s right brow arched. “Did I miss something?”

I grinned, “And you were Sorted into Slytherin?”

Malfoy’s mouth worked, but I rapped on the door four times in quick succession, the knock I used whenever I came by with ingredients for Horace’s stores.

Perhaps only three seconds passed before the door was flung open and a very flustered Horace Slughorn ushered me and Malfoy inside. When the door was sealed and Charmed for silence, Horace turned, his robes flying out around his rotund form.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy, how’s your mother? And Lucius…is he…”

I frowned. “Horace, we really do not have the time for this. What did you need to tell me?”

Malfoy stifled a snort as Horace’s jaw worked and his face flushed. The man’s sense of decorum was so fragile that I almost felt guilty for interrupting his attempt at civility. But then again, I never had been one to placate Horace in any way.

“The uh…the centaurs. They wanted to speak with you, Miss Granger, but I told them you had gone from the Forest. After you were attacked, I ran out of some essential ingredients, so I had to trek into the Forest myself. I went to the brook you told me about, and there I met with a centaur called Roan. They had been watching me for some time, it seemed.

However, when they realized I was not you, they chanced a meeting. They knew whom I was when I taught here years ago and would trek into the Forest… But, nevermind that, the point being, they had information for you that they deemed to be of the utmost importance.

I explained the attack, who had attacked you…we were told by the Aurors, pardon me, police since they learned that you passed through the castle quite frequently. Roan became quite upset, and informed me that part of the information they had was about Potter being seen in the Forest. Of course, the information came too late, but Roan mentioned Potter being near a cave…a cave where Ara…Ara-something used to live. Apparently Potter was searching for something. The centaur knew what it was, but would not tell me. But, whatever it was, the centaurs have it now.”

My eyes widened and I glanced at Malfoy whose face was still shuttered, but he pursed his lips and I knew he too was thinking. Harry did not have the Resurrection Stone!

“When was this, Professor?” Malfoy asked.

“Oh…after Miss Granger was attacked. The day before poor, silly Sibyll was murdered.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. Time wise, Harry had searched for the Stone before he invaded my home, and the day before Trelawney was murdered, the centaurs still had the Stone…but over a week had passed since then. A tiny mote of worry floated about my thoughts.

“Anything else, Professor?” Malfoy asked, having taken on his Detective Chief Inspector tone again.

“No, I grew too busy organizing the Slytherins for their return home…I haven’t been to the Forest since, or off the grounds.

In all my years, nothing like this…not even the Dark Lord caused this school to close.”

Malfoy and Horace spoke a bit more, mostly Malfoy trying to reassure the aged Potions Professor that the Ministry was doing all in its power to apprehend Harry. I had tuned out, only half-listening when Horace offered tea. Malfoy declined the invitation, glancing at me.

I cocked my head and came back to the present, thanking Horace for relaying the message, and hastily making my exit, Malfoy again on my heels. I had automatically turned to go deeper into the darkness of the dungeons, not bothering to light my wand to see the way down.

“I am getting awfully tired of this game of ‘follow the leader,’ Granger. Where the hell are you leading me?” Malfoy snarled, lighting his acquired yew wand and grasping my wrist the second time that day to stop me in my tracks.

“The Forest. I thought that was obvious after what Horace told us,” I snapped, pulling my wrist free and continuing down the last corridor to the statue of the troll and the passage out of the castle.

“You need to slow down. Didn’t you mention needing to see Pomfrey?”

“There’s no time, Malfoy. And the fact that the centaurs would go so far as to speak to Horace Slughorn tells me that something is wrong…”

I stepped before the troll statue and muttered my password, causing Malfoy to arch an eyebrow. Before I could enter the passage, however, Malfoy blocked my path, moving before me.

“Harry doesn’t know about this passage, no one really does…”

“Better safe than sorry, isn’t that how it goes?” he muttered moving forward, extinguishing his wand and sliding it back into his holster.

I said nothing, but followed, hearing the statue grind back into place behind me. As we walked, I smirked at the sight of Malfoy’s pale head swiping the top of the tunnel and his faint curses about cobwebs and dank passages.

The light outside the hidden tunnel was bright, but my eyes were slow in adjusting, and another slice of pain made me stop and hold my head. The cold air was refreshing, however, but I was cold almost immediately.

“How far into the Forest are we?”

I did not answer, but ground my teeth. A specialist Healer…yes, I would need one.

“Far…” was all I could manage.

I forced my head up out of my hands to find Malfoy frowning at me. I sighed, pulling my wand from my pocket again, Transfiguring my coat into an ugly grey cloak. It seemed that even my skills at Transfiguration were effected by my pounding head. Malfoy perfectly altered his cloak, added bulk to the material, as well as a grey fur lined hood, which he pulled over his pale head.

“It is a good twenty minute walk to the brook Horace mentioned. The centaurs will see us there…”

“As much as I hate to say it, Granger…lead the way.”

I rolled my eyes, and again immediately wished I hadn’t.

The Forest floor was a blanket of white, and there was still more snow pouring down from the sky. In spite of the snow, I could still see the path by the deep rut in the ground between the wild roots of massive trees. I had walked this path many times in much deeper snow, and I had never lost my way.

Of course, the Forest was magical, and I could feel the magic under the soles of my boots, upon the wind, even in the scent of the trees and soil…the Forest was my home, just as it was to all manner of creatures. And it was refreshing to be home.

I walked sure footedly through the deepening snow, my footfalls barely making a sound. Malfoy, on the other hand, was muttering curses to himself, and occasionally slipping or snagging the toe of his boot on a snow covered root. However, he managed to keep right behind me, and after few minutes, he moved as stealthily as I.

We did not speak as we walked, and only the wind through frozen branches high above accented the air with mournful creaks and cracks. The memory of moving through the Forest with Malfoy came to me. It had been our First Year, and we had been serving detention with Hagrid…all I really remembered was how frightened Malfoy had been.

I smiled as my feet moved off the path along the obscured trail to the brook.

I took three steps, and was quickly jerked back by Malfoy who had grasped my shoulders and pulled me toward him. I opened my mouth to protest, but was ‘shushed,’ my face pressed tighter to his right shoulder.

Malfoy had pulled his wand, holding it with his right hand, and cradled me against him, his left arm, keeping me still. I blushed, taking in the scent of Malfoy…spicy, clean, like a mixture of citrus and sage.

I squirmed to see what it was he pointing his wand at, but could only manage to turn my head, resting my right cheek against his chest.

I could not see anything, but Malfoy apparently had.

“Ahead, thirty metres…moving through the trees,” he whispered.

I squirmed again, but Malfoy held me tighter, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

“Let me go…” I whispered breathlessly.

Malfoy stiffened, as if realizing he was holding something that was not his…and he released me, but kept me close, his cloak enveloping and shielding me.

I turned and narrowed my eyes to peer through the dark trunks of the trees. I still did not see anything…

“Fucking hell!” Malfoy gasped, stumbling backward suddenly, his left hand flying to his cheek.

Malfoy had reacted to a sound, a sound I was slow to register. But when I did register the sound, Malfoy had already cursed and grabbed his cheek, which was now oozing bright red blood.

An arrow had whizzed past my head to graze Malfoy’s cheek. I winced as Malfoy cast a quick and dirty healing Charm to staunch the bleeding, moving to point his wand past me again.

“No!” I whispered loudly, “Put your wand away!”

Malfoy sneered, conveying he had no intention of slipping the long yew wand into its holster. I frowned and whirled so that I faced away from Malfoy. The brook ran nearby, and I knew that we were close to that invisible boundary between the realm of the centaur and my realm.

I bent with a deep bow, and waited, taking a few more steps to put distance between Malfoy and myself.

After what seemed like minutes, a faint whistle sounded, followed by another much closer. Malfoy stiffened, and I could feel his alarm, but he did not move, only his eyes peered through the trees, moving slowly from one point to another.

“Granger?” he whispered hurriedly.

“Quiet. Centaurs, lower your wand or their arrows will do more than mar your pretty face,” I hissed.

Finally, after a moment of hesitation, Malfoy lowered his wand from a defensive position. I sighed, turning my attention again to the trees. There was a final whistle, very close, and then from the trees, as if emerging from the air, a centaur stepped out into my range of vision.

I did not know this male centaur whose hooves barely made a noise over the snow, soil, and tree roots. He was not like Roan or the scouts for he was older, larger, with long grey locks, skin, and body. His eyes were a bottomless silver, hooded, and wise. There had always been speculations as to the life span of a centaur, but it was known to Wizards that centaurs could live for centuries, and were incredibly resilient beings, hard to kill…

As the regal grey centaur approached, I bowed low, pulling back my hood to reveal my face, ignoring Malfoy’s palpable caution at my back.

“Rise, Hermione Granger, you are known to me.”

The centaur’s voice was a deep bass, perhaps deeper, and he spoke with an articulate eloquence that was befitting his race.

“Command your human to stand down.”

If the situation did not require the utmost seriousness, I would have laughed. I turned and glanced at Malfoy who frowned horribly, and angrily slid his wand back into its holster. Malfoy would certainly make an ado about being called ‘my human’ later, I was certain.

I turned my attention back to the centaur. “You know me?”

The centaur seemed to smile, but thought better of it, and lifted his chin slightly.

“I know all who live in this Forest,” he said with a distinct air of authority, his deep voice humming through my chest.

“Forgive my ignorance, my lord, but I do not know you.”

Always when engaging centaurs, it was wise to be overly courteous…

“I am Magorian.”

The Lord of the Forest, the leader of the centaur herd. I knew his name very well, but I had never met the being before. Magorian was the most powerful sentient being in the forest, everything in the Forest was known to him, and when I moved into the cottage, I had sent word to the Lord of the Forest, asking for his approval, given that I never interfere with his realm or territory.

I bowed again, deeper than before, I most certainly did not want to offend this being.

“The old, fat human has conveyed the message we sent?”

Horace would have bristled at Magorian’s description of him…but it was accurate.

“Yes, my lord, I apologize for not coming sooner.”

Magorian’s hooves shifted in the snow.

“Late, it is, but no fault of yours, Hermione Granger.”

I bowed my head again.

“Your information about Harry Potter was appreciated, we were the ones at fault. Had we contacted you sooner, you may not have been so grievously injured.”

My throat closed, and my eyes watered. I stayed silent for a few moment before attempting to speak.

“My lord, I have come to ask you…” I trailed, tears trailing hot down my cheeks. “The Stone…is it…?”

Magorian’s hooves shifted in the snow again, and his grey skinned hands clenched.

“Hermione Granger, we no longer have the relic.”

I felt my face crumple, that niggling worry had felt morphed into fear.

“Harry?” I risked.

Magorian nodded, his grey locks moving over his shoulders. “He killed two of my herd, two scouts. He injured three more, one being a young mare, my daughter.”

I was weeping, and there was nothing I could do to stop the tears or the quivering in my lips. I hoped that Magorian did not see my tears as an insult.

“When?” I gasped.

“The day after the old, fat human came.”

I nodded slowly. “Can I be of any assistance to you and your herd, my lord?”

Magorian said nothing, but then shook his head. “There is no need, we have our own ways, Hermione Granger.”

I bowed again, as deeply as I could, there was little else to say. The centaurs had had the Stone, but Harry had forcefully taken it. Surely they had found it near Aragog’s cave, the spiders long gone from the Forest. Keeping it secret, and keeping it safe, the centaurs guarded the Stone without the Wizarding world’s knowledge. For the centaurs to do so showed that the Stone was, indeed, a powerful magical item.

I turned to go, expecting Malfoy to follow when Magorian spoke again, causing me to keep still.

“Harry Potter had been our ally ten of your years ago, he is now an enemy of the Forest. You, however, Hermione Granger are welcome here. For years you have lived with us in peace. You have built a rapport with us, and for your heart and you kindness, we thank you.”

I could not see for the tears. Blinded, I answered, “Thank you, my lord, I will always treasure you confidence.”

Wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I watched as Magorian bowed to me…an action that did not go unnoticed by the Forest or by Malfoy.

“There is one last thing I must tell you, Hermione Granger.”

Magorian paused, his jaw working as if mulling over how to phrase what he was about to say.

“Harry Potter’s illness is not just of the mind…there is a taint in his soul. Be careful, Hermione Granger, for Harry Potter to kill us had not been foreseen in the heavens, and to kill us is a difficult task, even for a Wizard.”

I closed my eyes and bowed my head as Magorian turned to slip back into the camouflage of tress and snow. Within a few short moments, I knew the centaurs were gone. I wept, falling to my knees in the snow and soil. Perhaps it did not mean anything to the Wizarding world, but to be trusted by the centaurs of the Forest was perhaps the most important feeling I had in my life at that moment. Harry had taken so much from me…and Magorian’s words comforted me to the point where I felt as I were indeed a cherished person.

I hugged myself as I cried, my cries soft, but painful, as my body shook with a mixture of anger, grief, and happiness. When a hand fell heavily upon my shoulder, I recoiled, falling to scramble in the snow, my palms scrapping against tree roots.

“Merlin, Granger!” Malfoy growled over me.

I felt incredibly stupid. I had almost forgotten he had been standing behind me the whole time. I sniffed, and climbed to my feet, wiping off the snow and dirt from my cloak. Pulling the hood up to shield my bare head from the increasing winds, I moved past Malfoy, retracing our steps to the path.

“Two more deaths attributed to Potter…” I heard Malfoy say as I started up the path toward the cottage.

“The Ministry won’t take those into account, and you know it,” I muttered angrily, using that anger to move quicker along the path.

“It is unfortunate, but right now I would like to know where you think you’re going?” Malfoy rumbled, trying to keep up.

“Home.”

My forward momentum was suddenly stopped, and I found myself being twirled backward by my wrist until I bumped into Malfoy’s chest. Automatically, I pushed at him, stumbling back, but managing to keep on my feet.

“Would you stop grabbing me, Malfoy? I really don’t appreciate being treated like a rag doll!” I yelled, disturbing the sleep of an owl high above who took flight at my voice, knocking snow off its perch so that it fell with a thud near the path.

“Until you act as if you have half a brain left in that shaved head of yours, I will treat you as you deserve,” Malfoy snarled, tossing my wrist from his hand as if it were something foul.

My head started to pound again. I had had a glorious reprieve only moments before, but the slicing pain returned. I felt as my eyeballs were being squeeze for the viscous matter inside…

I took a deep, cold breath and held it for a moment, moving my hand over my eyes to rub my temples.

“I need clothes, Malfoy, and I would like some things from my bathroom. I really do not have the money or the means to buy new clothes while under police protection. You are the DCI, and we are ten minutes from the cottage. So unless you want to foot the bill for me…besides setting me up in your family’s house, eating their food; you’re going to let me go home, pack a few things, and then we can go wherever you want to go. I have no place to go anyway…I’m at your mercy, if that is what you would like to hear.”

I had said it all calmly, my head pounding too soundly for me to convey any other emotion in my voice.

“Not really, Granger, but you do have a point. You are at my mercy,” Malfoy muttered, his eyes moving from my toe to head. “You could not protect yourself…you cannot even Transfigure your coat properly, the enchantment is beginning to wane.”

I did not react, I could already feel the magic I had cast on the material of the coat dissolving so that only the original coat remained. I had known that the spell had not been strong enough, but I accepted it. I wondered if I could even cast a faint lighting spell, but I did not move my hand to retrieve my wand.

“I will go to the cottage with you, but from there, it is my say. You go where I go, you do what I tell you to do. There has been enough of you wearing us both out today,” Malfoy growled, pulling Voldemort’s wand from the chest holster and recasting the spell to Transfigure my coat into a longer, warmer cloak, a dark green with black fur around the edges which kept the wind from blowing into the hood and freezing my exposed ears. “Do we have an understanding?” he said, tucking the yew wand away.

I managed to nod.

Whatever energy had propelled me through the Forest only moments before must have been my last wind. My stomach growled, both Malfoy and I having missed lunch, and as we walked, the sky grew darker. I had not realized it was so late.

The ten-minute walk had turned into twenty minutes at the rate I was moving. I could tell Malfoy was growing more and more irritable with each sluggish step, but he said nothing. I wondered, as we walked, when Malfoy had grown to be able to control his mouth from spewing such idiotic filth as he had during our schooldays. Malfoy had changed so drastically that I could barely believe it was the same Draco Malfoy that had jinxed my teeth to grow down to my knees. There had been moments in the days before where he had almost been complimentary toward me, almost kind, almost caring… It puzzled me.

When we came over the snowy rise and into the clearing, I was shocked to find that I could see the cottage. The layers of wards I had set upon the area were obviously down, for if they were still up I would have not seen the cottage at all. However, seeing that the front door was, at the very least, shut, I did not feel so apprehensive. I passed through the weak wards, perhaps only two layers, and noticed that my little garden was ruined. The warming Charms on the small plots of herbs and vegetables had been dispelled. In the weeks of absence, the Forest was ready to retake the cottage, and it nearly broke me to see my home in such a state.

Moving to the front door, I eyed the Ministry notice tacked to the door declaring my home a crime scene and that only authorized ‘police’ were allowed to enter. That was when Malfoy stepped in front of me, drawing the yew wand again. With a spell I did not recognize, the door sprang open, and Malfoy entered, moving to look about the cottage for anyone who might be inside. I waited as Malfoy moved to the bathroom and then to the doorway of the bedroom, striding back to the door to beckon me to enter.

Crossing the threshold, I found it was almost as cold inside the cottage as it was outside. I wanted to frown and express my distaste, but I could barely stay on my feet. I absently closed the door behind me, and moved through the front room to the kitchen island. Everything that had been in my coat pocket lay upon the stone surface just as Harry had pulled it out the night I was attacked, the only thing that was missing was the half-eaten pineapple cake.

The emerald cuff link rested next to the small bundle of spare clothes, and that was the first thing I put back into my pocket. I replaced the rest with painful slowness, Malfoy looking about the cottage, apparently finding nothing better to do. Next, I went into the bathroom, wrapping my toothbrush and some feminine products in a hand towel and slipped them into my pocket. I did not need shampoo…I did not really have hair to wash.

I moved to go to the bedroom, but froze, noticing another faintly glowing line at knee level…another magical cordon.

“Malfoy…” I said, but it came out as a whisper.

Malfoy had not heard me, standing near the cold fireplace. I did not call his name again as my eyes alighted upon my bed.

Someone had repaired the window Harry had burst through, but there were still small shards of glass on the comforter. But it was not the shards that made my stomach twist and my eyes burn. It was the dark brown stains of blood, my blood. It was everywhere, and not just in the bed, soaking down into the eider tick mattress, but the floor, the walls, the open door and jamb. There seemed to be enough blood to fill a body, and it was all mine.

I gagged and swayed, falling to my knees a second time that day, the pain of my knees into the stone floor jarring me horribly. I could go no further, my brain was numb, my body ached, and my head felt as if it were going to burn up in a blaze of unquenchable fire.

Malfoy was instantly at my side. He asked questions, but I did not hear them, all I could hear was my heartbeat in my head and the shallow inhales that could not sate my need for air. He shook me, but I did not answer. He tried to lift me up, but I could not budge. Malfoy finally gave up and stood over me as a sentinel swathed in black, with a deathly color to his skin and hair.

“I need clothes from the wardrobe, and the book in the shelf built into the bed.”

I exhausted myself just by speaking those words, but Malfoy moved, slashing his wand through the air as he passed through the door. He had had the authority to enter the room, and he went to the wardrobe, pulling clothes off hangars, grabbing underclothes and socks from the lower drawer. Finding a small case next to the wardrobe, he stuffed the clothes inside and shrank the case so that it was the size of the book he drew from the shelf.

Exiting the room, Malfoy shut the door, and dropped the two items before me. I mechanically moved to stuff them in my pocket, my last conscious effort at movement.

I grunted as I was hauled to my feet, Malfoy catching me under the arms and lifting me. Shifting me, I found myself in his arms, my body, my head falling limply back and against him.

“You’re going to Pomfrey now, Granger. I do not want to hear a word from you, you’ve done too much harm to yourself for one day.”

I could not answer even if I wanted to. Malfoy had sounded furious. Wandlessly, Malfoy opened the low door of the cottage and had to nearly crouch to exit. He sighed as he carried me, Charming the front door shut behind him. Through the weak wards, Malfoy paused to set me on my feet as he pulled out his wand. Grabbing hold of my waist, he held me tightly, adding the warmth of his cloak around me.

“Hold tight, Granger, I have a feeling this is going to hurt…” he said resignedly.

I tried to hold him, but I lacked the strength to lift my arms. When I did not move, Malfoy growled and held me tighter.

“Here we go…” he whispered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

And off we went.




I heard music, and it was the sound of a piano that led my out of sleep. I did not open my eyes, listening. It was not the sound of a literal piano, but with the muted, scratchy sound of a phonograph record. The quality of the music was superb, and it reminded me of a time while I was a student. It was a not a distinct memory, but a combination of sensations that had always comforted me when I wanted to feel safe, happy, and warm. Sunlight streaming through the windows of the Gryffindor Common Room, bathing everything in golden light and the fire crackling in the fireplace…that was safety, happiness and warmth to me.

The music drifted to my ears from some place slightly removed, but I knew what it was…Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 5 in E flat Major, opus 73, ‘Emperor.’

I had never been particularly skilled with musical instruments, so I had contented myself with being an avid listener. It was not just Romantic Classical music, but all types of music from Billie Holiday to The Pogues, Bach to The Buzzcocks. My parents kept a collection of music for me in their home in Australia…Merlin, how I wanted to escape there…

When the last note of the piece ended, I could hear that someone was changing the record, and soon the deep voice of Enrico Caruso singing ‘Una Furtiva Lagrima’ drifted to my ears in mournful notes. I had always enjoyed the Italian tenor, and decided that whomever was picking the music certainly had refined tastes.

It was then that I opened my eyes. Everything that had happened in the last month came back to me, and I took a deep breath. In my restful state, I did not feel scared as I had.

I could feel my toes, my legs, my arms, and my head, which did not ache. I thanked the gods.

I stared up into an unfamiliar ceiling made of stone, but I did not panic. I turned my head to the right to find a dark wooden door, ajar, leading to another room brighter than the one I lied in. To the left were windows, heavily draped in green velvet, the view of the Forest beyond. Snow was still falling, and I realized I was at Hogwarts.

The bed I lay in was smaller than the one I had occupied at Malfoy Manor, but it was just as comfortable and warm. Near the foot of the bed, against the adjacent wall was a chest of drawers made of dark walnut, and above it, an oval mirror in a ornate wooden frame. I could just see myself in the mirror, and what I saw disgusted me. My face was bruised, both of my eyes blackened, and a bandage wrapped about my temple just above my eyebrows, blood staining the white gauze. I looked like death…

I could not lift my head, lacking the strength, but I could move my arms, lifting the heavy down comforter off my body to see that I had been dressed in a hospital gown. It was gowns given to those in the Hospital Wing, confirming my assumption that I was at the castle, but where in the castle, I could not say.

The music stopped abruptly, and footfalls sounded on the stone floor. My movement must have been heard for the footfalls came to the door.

Malfoy was dressed differently than I remembered, black trousers and a black dress shirt, the jumper gone. His hair was a mess, falling all angles about his face, his shirt sleeves rolled up so I could see a shadow of something under the skin of his left forearm. The first four buttons of the front of the shirt were undone revealing a pale, muscular chest with pale hair trailing down his body in a thin trail.

“Winky, fetch Pomfrey, Granger is awake,” he said gruffly into the other room.

I heard an elf’s voice and a soft pop, but thought no more of it as Malfoy came to my right side, glancing at me to turn to the bedside table. I had not noticed the table was laden with phials, bandages, and a pitcher of water. I suddenly wondered how long I had been laying in bed.

Malfoy poured a glass of water, but left it to place a knee on the bed to lean over me. With gentle hands, he helped me sit up slightly, stacking pillows behind me. Without a word, he helped me drink a few sips of cool water, the liquid like nectar to my dry lips and throat.

I wanted to speak, to ask him how long it had been since the cottage. I even felt the urge to thank him, but I simply could not speak. I stared him, and the stubble along his jaw. He looked exhausted, haggard.

A ‘whoosh’ from the other room indicating the Floo had activated, and Malfoy pulled away from me and drew his wand from a side pocket in his trousers, apparently concealed. My eyes widened at Malfoy’s sudden motion, but as Poppy Pomfrey entered the room, Malfoy relaxed. Another figure entered dressed in Healer robes, and it took me a moment to realize Parvati Patil was staring at me with a mixture of concern and surprise. If Parvati had been considered pretty in school, she was now stunningly beautiful. Her long black hair streamed down her narrow shoulders, and her large dark eyes seemed to sparkle in to the low light coming through the window.

“Miss Granger, how are you feeling?” Poppy asked, moving around to the left side of the bed, grasping my wrist as if to take my pulse.

I did not answer, but moved my head to regard Poppy blankly. The effort of merely holding my head up was draining. I turned my attentions back to Parvati who moved to stand next to Malfoy.

“Has she said anything?” Parvati asked Malfoy, but did not move her dark eyes to the man who was discreetly slipping his wand into the concealed pocket along the right seam of his trousers.

“Not a sound. I just gave her some water. I think she’s still too exhausted to speak. She looks like she’s about to fall asleep at any moment.”

I hated when people talked about me as if I were not there, but all things considering, I would have to endure it.

Poppy fussed to herself, seemingly unsure as what to do next. Malfoy whispered something to Parvati I could not make out, and strode to the door, leaning back against the jamb, crossing his arms over his chest, blocking my view of his pale pectoral muscles and the light chest hair that trailed down his chest. I had to admit that Malfoy was handsome, as long as he did not speak…

“Hermione? Do you know who I am?” Parvati asked, sitting on the side of the bed within arm’s reach.

I blinked at her once. I really wanted to tell her that I was not a child and I did not appreciate her placating tone. Alas…all I could do was blink, nodding proved impossible.

“Are you in any pain?”

I blinked twice. Besides feeling as if the life had been suck out of me, I felt quite well.

“I need to remove the bandages, Hermione, can you keep still?”

I blinked once. Stupid cow, I could barely move at all, of course I would stay still!

I had never really counted Parvati as a friend. Parvati and Lavender had been thick as thieves during school, and I was always the odd one out.

Parvati nodded to herself and moved beautiful hands to my head, unwinding the bandages. In the mirror across the room, I saw that I had a bit of blood caked in my millimetre long hair, but the cuts and scars were nearly gone. Poppy moved in the reflection of the mirror, Conjuring a basin of warm water and a cloth. Carefully, wiping away the blood so that I could see that my scalp was nearly healed and that the scars were re-growing hair, which was impossible without the assistance of magic.

“It looks much better,” Parvati said more to herself than to me. She drew her wand from her robes and Vanished the bloody bandages and then proceed to run the tip of her wand around my head and before my face. The wand tip glowed green then yellow to green again. “Still a bit of residual damage, but it seems to be repairing itself in record time,” she said softly with a hint of satisfaction.

Poppy wiped one last clot from behind my ear and pulled away, silently.

“No permanent damage?” Malfoy asked from the door, and my eyes moved to him again. His face was passive, his demeanour stoic, but the manner in which his hands clutched his upper arms told me volumes. He had been concerned.

“None that I can see. However, if she would have went on a bit longer, the damage would have been irreparable. It is a good thing you sent for me, Malfoy,” Parvati said without turning to him. Instead, she moved her hands to cup my face, looking into my eyes and turning my head from one side to the other, my eyes moving to remain on Malfoy.

I wanted to ask what he had meant by damage. Surely, his counter curse had healed me?

“Tell Granger why I called you, Patil, she wants to know.”

Parvati frowned, pulling her hands away from my face to turn to Malfoy.

“How do you…?”

Legilimency.

When Malfoy did not answer, Parvati sighed and returned to gaze to me.

“Malfoy has informed me of the details of your attack, Hermione, I hope you don’t mind it. When I became a Healer, I took the vow of confidentiality, so don’t worry yourself.

I specialize in Curse damage, and ever since the War, my job has been a bit hectic. You may not realize it, but there have been new groups of Wizards forming in the wake of Voldemort. Terrorist cells, bent on disrupting the order of the new Ministry. The reason I know about them at all is their interest in using new and obscure Curses. Last month there was an attack in Glasgow, twenty people were injured with a new type of Conjunctivitis Curse which burnt out the eyes of the victims…”

I closed my eyes, having no energy to wince or express my disgust. I had heard about the so-called ‘terrorists’ from my co-workers, but did not know much else besides their Dark affiliations. They were not Death Eaters, but disgruntled witches and wizards with their own dogmas and ideals. The violence of the ‘terrorists’ had not reached my ears, and I wondered if it had been wrong of me to be so closed up in my own head.

“Everyone has been up in arms about Harry, Hermione. The ‘terrorists’ are claiming him, but everyone in this room knows that Harry would never truly be a terrorist. His agenda is his own…

I’m sorry for what has happened, Hermione.”

I opened my eyes to see Parvati leaning toward me, a beautiful hand resting on mine.

“I was called because there was a curse affecting you. Malfoy explained that he nullified a curse, but there was one that was lying dormant, waiting to strike at you internally.”

I blinked…confused.

“The only way to explain the curse is to compare it to a virus or a cancer.”

Alarm could only be conveyed by the widening of my eyes. Cancer was not unknown disease to the Wizarding world, but it was rare.

“The curse was slowly eating away at your magical ability, sapping your strength and your body’s natural immunities. Malfoy told me that there were times that your magical ability was very weak, but there were times when it would surge from you without conscious effort or the use of your wand. This is consistent with type of curse you were under...

However, your body was fighting the curse, using all of its energy to fight. By the time I was called, your own magic was weakening, allowing the curse to take control. I was in time to remove the curse, Hermione, do not worry.”

Parvati squeezed my hand gently, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“You are a powerful witch, Hermione. If it had been anyone else, they would have died days ago. You have healed so quickly, it could be called a miracle, but it was your own magic that kept you alive,” Parvati whispered, leaning closer, her dark eyes shimmering. I could hear the pride in her voice, with strains of relief and of envy. Parvati was admitting my strength as a witch…

“Tell her what type of curse it was, Patil,” Malfoy growled from the door, causing Parvati to unexpectedly wince.

“It is was a curse of enslavement.”

I could just knit my brow and narrow my eyes.

“The curse had not taken full effect, if it had, I would not have been able to remove it. Only the caster can remove the curse after it has taken full effect.”

I closed my eyes slowly. The curse had been a supposed fail-safe. Harry had tried to brand me by assaulting me in the manner he had, but he had also planted another curse, a parasitic curse that would begin working after a period of time. So, if one curse was nullified, the other would remain, unnoticed until it was too late.

I looked to Malfoy again. He had been the one to notice…he had been watching me all the while, and the thought warmed me, strangely. I did not know this man at all.

“The rest, Patil,” Malfoy commanded causing Parvati to sigh in frustration.

“There is a thing called ‘bed side manner,’ Malfoy. I was getting to the rest,” Parvati snapped, but did not look at Malfoy.

I wanted to smirk. There had been something between Malfoy and Parvati, and it was not just because we were in the same year. I tucked that bit of information away for another, more appropriate time.

“When I removed the curse, which was aggressively attacking you brain, I came across another spell. It was not a curse or hex, but something I have never encountered before.

It was a type of imbedded spell that worked concurrently with your own magical ability. If the soul is situated in the seat of the brain, it is your magic that shields the soul from harm; protecting your soul…this spell is something that your magic could not create. Just as some can ‘occlude’ their minds and block unfriendly mental curses, this spell is like those ‘occluding’ barriers. However, I could not determine how the spell is working, exactly.”

I wanted to frown, but could only manage to quirk my lips.

“The spell is a protection, and is not harmful to you. In fact, this spell is part of the reason you were able to resist Harry’s curse for so long.

I could not determine when it had been placed, or what effects it has had on your body or your magical ability, but it is not harmful enough to risk another procedure like the one I preformed to remove Harry’s curse.”

I blinked an affirmative, but my mind was whirling. Someone had cast a spell upon me and I had not known it. The curse I had been dimly aware of since my body and my magic had been effected…but another spell…not a curse or a hex, had been working on me for Merlin knew how long. And it had saved my life.

“For the time being, you are out of danger. All that remains is that you regain your strength. Sleep now, your body needs the rest,” Parvati said softly, smiling and squeezing my hand once more.

Poppy proceeded to help me lie back, performing a few spells as she did, checking my vital signs and finding that I was much better than I had been, apparently. There was so much I wanted to ask, so much I wanted to know, but as Parvati bid me farewell and Poppy quickly followed, leaving only Malfoy behind, I wanted to know how much time had passed.

Malfoy shoved off the doorjamb and came to my bedside, letting his hands fall to his sides. He gazed coolly at my face, a smirk on his lips.

“Two days, Granger, no sightings of Potter. Rest easy for now, I will be here.”

I hesitated in shutting my eyes, but as I was horizontal again, the sleepiness came easily. When I finally shut my eyes, I heard Malfoy move away from the bed. Sleep fell upon me like a wave crashing into the shore, and I soon off into a dreamless rest.