August | Hermione Granger x OFC

Epilogue Part 3: Intermission

A/N: u might be able to tell by the title: this is just a mini baby part. at least compared with the previous one. part 4 is another biggun though. but i regret to inform u the streak will end here cause im ~busy~ hopefully ill be able to upload it next week

p.s. i wish i named all the chapters its kinda fun and whimsical

k go

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

"Take them off."

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid that's not—"

"Take them off."

"Miss Granger—"

"Do it," said Harry, because he was Harry Potter, and the Auror hesitated before reluctantly doing as asked (commanded), removing the cuffs from Robyn's wrists and ankles while Robyn stood idly, staring around the small room she'd been taken to: bland beige walls, a wooden table, a single uncomfortable looking sofa, no decoration, no windows. It was only just a step up from Azkaban thanks to the ceiling light and the lack of Dementors and occasional screams of the damned.

Also, Hermione was here. And Harry. And the Auror.

"Leave us."

The Auror seemed like she was going to argue for all of two seconds before Harry shot her a look. She sighed and walked out the door with a shake of her head.

"Harry, would you—"

"Yes," said Harry immediately. "I'll be back." And he left as well.

And then there were two.

Hermione immediately burst into tears, pulling Robyn close to her, and Robyn allowed it, leaned into it and, eventually, hugged back.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Hermione was whispering over and over again, and Robyn only listened, staring wide-eyed off at nothing. As usual, her head pounded, a million thoughts rushing through it all at once. She could hardly even trust that what was happening was real. That she'd been taken from Azkaban and had her memories put on blast for the wizarding world to see. That Hermione was really here, gripping her as if her life depended on it, whispering about how devastatingly sorry she was. She was sorry... why?

"You left me in there to rot," Robyn eventually concluded. "You all did."

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head vehemently. She pulled away only to grip Robyn by her shoulders, to look her right in the eyes. "No. How could you say that? How dare you say that?"

"Rotten Rosier."

Hermione frowned. "What? You're wrong. I've spent the past ten days fighting tooth and nail trying to get you out, asking them to dismiss the Dementors, trying to make sure your trial was first - and it is, by the way, but they needed time to arrange the special pensieve, on top of tracking down all the rogue Death Eaters and sorting out the Ministry.

"I've been non-stop trying to prepare for this trial, looking through your memories - which are bloody awful, Robyn. I haven't rested. I haven't stopped. Harry worked tirelessly with me, and your friends have been brilliant. Robyn." She clicked her fingers in Robyn's face to get her attention. "Are you even listening to me?"

Robyn stared wide-eyed.

Hermione's face crumpled as she whispered, "What have they done to you?"

But "they" hadn't done anything. It was all in Robyn's head. It was all Robyn.

"Rob, please. When's the last time you ate?"

Robyn blinked. "Oh, I don't know..." she muttered. Her stomach physically ached. "The Wall People have been stealing my bread."