Lies, Buried and Bound - A Dramione Story

Part Twenty-One

Everyone in the drawing room stood in shock as Hermione Granger fretted over the little girl they'd all come to care for in a short period of time.

Hermione worried her lip between her teeth as she pushed Charlotte's wild tendrils of hair aside, examining her skin and injuries, hoping to catch any signs of distress she could heal. Except for the criss-crossed cuts across her cheek, Charlotte seemed perfectly fine.

"Mon chéri!" In French, the two began conversing, "Are you alright? Are you hurt? Have you eaten? Where did you go? What happened?"

Only Draco could understand some of what was said, Narcissa even less.

"Mummy, I made new friends."

"Oh? Who?"

"I met Ginny and her daddy, which I want, but a boy and glasses, and people with orange hair in a funny building and one who has a broom, and I rided it with him!"

"You rode a broom?" Try as she may, Hermione couldn't mask the absolute horror that trilled with her voice.

"And then I threw up."

"You threw up?"

"Yeah, it was really fun! But earlier, when I fell from the sky and hurt my wrist, I met Draco, and he healed me and gave me a yummy froggy that was chocolate and he made it better. I met Winky, an ugly elf person who was nice and let me carry a spoon, but I was lost in a tunnel before. And I met a master with girl-hair who doesn't like me, but I like him because he looks like Draco."

Hermione might've laughed at the last remark if she hadn't been so scared or nervous about any of this. Only her daughter would size up a man like Lucius Malfoy and cut down his masculinity with her extensive four-year-old vocabulary.

But she was worried. She had yet to teeter from the tower of fear that she'd never see Charlotte's smile again. Her heart was throbbing with a pain that only a mother whose life was made complete with that of her child could feel.

She cupped her child's beautiful, round face. "I am so sorry, Charlotte." Their heads touched in solemn understanding. If both of them were to blame, then neither should be blamed. "Promise me, and I'll promise you, Charlotte Belle: we must listen to each other. You warned me that something bad would happen, and I should've listened and stayed. Promise me, Cricket."

"Yes, Mummy, I promise. I'm sorry I didn't want you to go."

"I know, baby. I love you so much, Charlotte, and I'm relieved you're safe."

"I love you, Mummy. You're my favourite person."

Hermione cradled her daughter and kissed her cheeks a few more times for good measure. She knew she was being watched, but this was such a good moment! She knew her precious bubble would burst, as it inevitably did, but she would prolong this moment for as long as she could. Her daughter was her whole world. But now, she needed to share her world with everyone else.

Hermione opened her eyes, ready to face her friends. Her eyes first met Ginny's. The redhead tried to look as passive and neutral as possible, but the unshed tears and the blush on her cheeks betrayed her.

Ginny struggled to determine if she believed Hermione owed everyone an explanation. Yes, it would be nice to understand her choices, and it might clear up some of the confusion surrounding her disappearance from Wizarding society and the sudden appearance of little Charlotte. But with how Hermione looked up at her, she knew a lot of hurt and agony was hidden beneath the surface.

Would she force an explanation from someone if she knew it would cause them grief? Even if what they did was objectively wrong?

Narcissa's expression was lapped with worry, and it wracked Hermione with returning guilt.