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C H A P T E R  N I N E | mimblewimble

curse. tongue-ties victim.

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THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT opens to them in just a few moments. While Pansy and Blaise enter, cooing at the splendor of the room before them, Draco seems a bit more hesitant. His cheekbone has swollen and darkened to a painful reddish-purple.

"Is everything all right?" Hermione studies his drawn face as he glances at her. She notices that his hair is mostly dry from Seamus's outburst and his eyes are bloodshot.

"If I said no, would it make any difference?" He breathes out a laugh, numbly staring at her for a moment longer before heading into the room.

Hermione runs after him with the doors shutting quietly behind her. In the enormous hearth, flames dance wildly; the wood cracks and spits. Meanwhile, Blaise plops down in one of two twin chairs in front of the fire. He extracts a bottle of what appears to be fire whiskey from the inner pocket of his coat. Pansy settles in the chair beside him, taking the bottle when he offers it a moment later. Draco lays back on the couch, tossing one of his arms over his eyes.

She sits on the floor in front of the sofa, resting her back against the edges of the cushions with Draco behind her. His warmth radiates toward her. All she wants to do is lay her head back, to feel his body on hers in any form, no matter how small or platonic. They're not alone and the last thing they need is Blaise knowing they've had relations; it's bad enough that Pansy knows now. She is thankful when Blaise turns his attention to Pansy.

"So, who is this guy you're discussing with Granger? Do we know him?"

"Yes," she says, quickly but her next response is slower. "You're going to hate me if I tell you, I just know it."

"We could never hate you, Pans," Draco says, still covering his eyes with his arm.

Hermione nods to Pansy when she looks toward them.

"It's Ronald Weasley."

Blaise is drinking from the bottle, nearly choking as he hears Pansy's admittance. His wide eyes stare at her.

"You're bloody joking, Parkinson. I don't believe that one bit."

"What is so unbelievable exactly?"

Realizing he's placed himself in imminent danger, Blaise turns the conversation to Hermione.

"If you're going to be a regular fixture to our little group, I need to know that I can trust you. I'm sure we all need to know we can trust you. Tell us your deepest, darkest secret. Something that would be useful in case you ever plan to betray us."

Obviously, her pregnancy is her most crucial secret and she certainly doesn't want to admit to that. Especially for a silly game. Earlier in the night, he even doubted that she'd ever even slept with anyone. That might be juicy. It involves some sort of illusion of mystery and scandal. So she admits to not being a virgin, hoping the simple truth will satiate him. It doesn't.

"I refuse to accept that. It's not good enough. How about you tell us who is the other participant was? Or, is? Now I'm willing to bet it was Weasley." He lifts the bottle with his other hand, pressing it to his lips again. He takes a swig of the amber liquid as he waits for the response.

"Definitely not. He and I were not that compatible."

She realizes that in some respect, she has admitted to being compatible with Draco. Does he think this, too?

"No," Blaise says, practically shouting. "You can't mean that you and Potter-? I mean, there were rumors but I never thought them to be true." He laughs and Pansy smacks him on the arm.

"You're such an arse sometimes. Besides, I don't think Potter exactly makes the cut. She prefers blonds." Pansy giggles as she takes the bottle from Blaise. Before she drinks, she mouths "sorry" at Hermione who feels like her skin is on fire.

When she has a moment alone with Pansy, she is going to have to give her a lesson in subtlety. She just says that they don't know this person. Then, Draco moves on the sofa behind her and she shuffles out of his way.

"Ah, don't be a party-pooper, darling. Where are you going?" Pansy stares over the chair at him as he saunters toward the door.

"To sleep. You three should do the same." He pulls open the door and it shuts loudly behind him.

The trio stays there until Blaise and Pansy finish the bottle of liquor. Hermione yawns widely several times as she waits for the pair to stumble to their feet. They manage to get to the eighth-year dorms and after seeing them to their own rooms, Hermione heads off to her own end of the hall. However, she looks at the door across the hall from her. She is tempted to knock on his door, to see if he's alright but what if he's gone off to sleep already?

She draws an uneven breath as she crosses the floor. Her taps are quiet on the dark oak wood but a few moments later, the door opens.

Draco, shirtless, and disheveled. On his bare torso are a dozen of cuts and scratches. Several bruises darken the pale skin.

She steps toward him, wanting to ask him what's happened but looking into his eyes, she can't bring more pain to him. She came to check on him, not to pester him. He'll talk to her when he is ready, as he usually does.

He steps back, allowing her into his dimly lit bedroom. His bed is untouched as he's been working on a poultice at his desk. Under the bright lamplight, a pestle and mortar have been used to mash together several ingredients. However, he has yet to use it.

"Can I help you?" She moves toward the desk before he responds, taking the marble bowl in her hands. She turns to him then, swiping two of her fingers into the thick mash.

He silently agrees as he sits on the stool for his desk.

She steps in front of him, between his legs. Carefully, she pats it on his wounded cheekbone, pleased when he stops wincing as the medicine begins to take effect. His eyes flutter shut and his lips part slightly. She traces those lips a thousand times before she must move on to his torso. With a fresh swipe of poultice, she pats on the medicine to the wounds on his collarbone and chest. She is nervous and it only intensifies as she moves down to his abdomen. She finishes with those wounds and she feels dizzy.

"Breathe, Hermione."

She looks at his face and he's smiling. Her laugh is shaky.

Draco spins on the stool and she begins covering the wounds on his back. She notices the small black snake tattoo on his ribcage remains unscathed. The rest of the patching is quick work but she is brimming with lust. However, she remains steadfast that she should keep her distance despite what he said to Theo.

As she wipes her hands on a hand towel, she turns her attention elsewhere: how he came to be so mutilated. He turns to her.

"I'm dealing with it."

She presses her lips together. "I can help you. McGonagall can help, too."

"I know you mean well but I don't want you looking any further into this."

She sets down the rag and she turns back to him.

"Will you tell me one thing? Does this have anything to do with your conversation with Theodore Nott?"

He sighs and his shoulders drop like he's finally taking on the weight of his issues. His reply is quiet.

"It's useless to fight them."

"No, I won't take that as an answer. There are people who can protect you. This isn't like last time. You have choices." She touches his arm and he turns his face toward her.

"This world isn't as kind as you are, Hermione." He attempts a smile but it's too much and he looks away.

"I should probably get some sleep. You should too." He begins to pull his comforter back.

For a moment, she considers leaving. Instead, she asks if she can stay. He turns to her without hesitation.

He says, "Of course but what made you change your mind?"

"I just don't want to be alone tonight."

He nods and effortlessly uses wordless magic to turn off the lamp. Even in the darkness, the moonlight filters into the room through the open window. They undress and climb onto either side of the bed. She lays facing him and he's already looking at her.

"Did you mean what you said to Theo? About Astoria?" Her heart patters loudly within her chest.

"The marriage was arranged without our permission. Now that we're of age, our parents decided to tell us this and we just went along with it. But that was before you and I. Since then, you're all I think about. I am consumed by you, 'Mi. You make me feel more than anyone else ever has." He shuffles closer to her on the bed.

She inhales the fragrance of his cologne and the sweet poultice. He kisses her forehead. Rather than speaking, he begins to trace invisible shapes on her arm and back, down her hips, and back up. She is quickly lulled to sleep.

In her dream world, everything is dark. It is night in the forested area she's arrived in. Her heart is beating loudly in her chest as if something is wrong. She glances around, only able to make out trees with the moonlight shining from above the canopy. As if listening to her thoughts, a single wolf howl erupts in the distance and a dozen more begin to chime in. Covering her ears, she stumbles around in the darkness until the howling stops. She's desperate to get away but the sudden silence makes her stop. Allowing her hands to fall to her sides, she listens intently. Why did they stop, she wonders. Then behind her, a cracking branch snaps.

Hermione turns toward the sound to find that the moonlight falls on the sharp face of a woman. She'd figure this woman would be a stranger but something about her screams familiarity. Hermione asks who she is and what she wants.

The woman's thick lips curl into a smirk. "You just need to remember."

Confused, Hermione asks what she means but the woman repeats herself a second time. Hermione asks who she is, hoping that she'll get a different answer. She does but it's not what she was expecting.

"If you don't remember, he'll be in danger."

Hermione asks who will be in danger. She steps closer to the woman, trying to find any clue that will tell her who this stranger is. The brain cannot create new faces. This has to be someone she's seen. But why doesn't she remember? Is this woman just a conduit or is she involved in this mystery?

Then, Hermione notices the red patch on the left breast pocket of the woman's leather jacket. In the middle of the outline of a circle is a large 'V'. She recognizes it from the letter on Kingsley's desk before she was obliviated.  She remembers seeing the woman going into the elevator as Hermione was leaving behind Draco. These are the memories she'd lost in the obliviation, she realizes.

"He's in danger," Hermione says, realizing the depth of the trouble Draco is in.

The woman tosses her head back and she laughs loudly. This sound echoes the laughter Hermione heard back at the Ministry that day. This woman is who she must search for.

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