Come Find Me | Dramione

Chapter 32: Promises

Hermione could hear voices.

It took her a moment to determine if they were real or in her head. But she knew the two men arguing back and forth.

She kept her eyes closed as she listened.

"I've tried," Theo said softly as if he were trying not to wake her. "I've met with every Auror that was at that scene, and they all say the same thing. Potter is out for blood. He won't even listen to reason. He's oblivious in his grief, and he is going to pursue this case, even if it is ludicrous."

Everything came flooding back. Glass shattering, blood covering the floor.

Ron was dead. Because of her.

"The only reason he hasn't been camped out by Granger's bedside is because I won't allow visitors. The last thing she needs is his pompous arse in her face when she finally wakes—" Blaise stopped talking as he noticed Hermione open her eyes, tears already threatening to break free.

He walked over to her bedside and studied a monitor that sat at the side of her bed. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Hermione only stared at the ceiling. "Where is he?"

There was silence, and then, "Potter arrested him for Weasley's murder."

She squeezed her eyes shut as tears ran down her face. She tried to sit up, even through the barking pain all over her body. Blaise's gentle hands were holding her down. "You need to rest, Hermione. Your body has been through a lot, and you can't overdo it.

"I have to fix this," Hermione sobbed, leaning into Blaise's arms. "I have to."

Draco was sitting in a cell somewhere for a crime he didn't commit. All because he wanted to protect her.

She didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve him.

"We are going to get him out," Theo whispered, coming to sit at her side and taking her hand in his. "There's a hearing in two weeks. We'll present the facts to the Wizengamot, and they'll see. They'll have to let him go."

The facts. The fact that she had killed her husband. A fact that she would only walk away from if she came clean about the abuse.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Theo said, "You don't have to—"

"I'll do it," she said through her tears. "I'll do it for him."

Hermione didn't know when the reality of what she had done would hit her. So she let the throbbing ache of her muscles pull her back to sleep.

***

She drifted in and out of sleep for the next two days before finally gaining enough strength to convince Blaise to let her make the treacherous journey from her hospital bed to the chair perched in the corner of her room.

There was little time to think between the drowsiness and the exercises Blaise had her doing to speed up her healing. She rarely had a free moment to herself, which she supposed she was grateful for. She wasn't sure if she could stand being alone with her thoughts for more than a few minutes.

There was a soft knock at the door. She had memorized the way each of her matrons had knocked and recognized this one as Mrs York, a short and scrawny older woman with eyes of honey.

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley?" she called through a crack in the door.

Hermione flinched at her married name. "Yes?"

"You have two visitors. Shall I send them in?"

Her throat tightened. The only people she had been visited by since she woke were Theo and Blaise, the latter hardly counting since he was her healer. She felt a sting of panic shoot through her. If it was Harry and Ginny... or any of the Weasleys—